And It All Came Tumbling Down
by curseworm
Summary: During the Battle of New York, something other than Chitauri falls out of the portal. The Avengers aren't sure what to make of the terrified six-month-old Nephilim they find in the aftermath of the battle, but it's a situation they're going to have to deal with themselves as they're certainly not handing him over to the mercies of SHIELD. Gen.
1. Lost

**A/N: Hello and welcome to my first fic. Thanks for deciding to check it out. I hope you enjoy it. **

**At some point I will probably come back and review this.**

**Beta'd by Andromeda_M31**

**Cover art by Zeartizan on Instagram**

_**Disclaimer: Sadly, I don't own Supernatural or Marvel**_

**-o-O-o-**

**Русский перевод: ficbook {.} net / readfic / 9331408  
****(****убрать пробелы и скобки)**

* * *

lost  
_adjective_

1\. unable to find one's way

* * *

Jack kept a steady control of his grace as he used Kaia's dreamwalking abilities to search the vast expanse of the multiverse for the world Mary was trapped in. He furrowed his brow, carefully examining each of the universes littering the darkness for a defining characteristic that would identify one as the apocalyptic world he was looking for.

As he passed the worlds, he couldn't help but marvel at the sheer beauty of his grandfather's creations. The universes were simply breath-taking and he longed for the time to simply admire each and every one of them. Some of them were Earth-like, with familiar landscapes and oceans, while others were entirely alien.

Jack gritted his teeth and pulled his wandering thoughts back to the task at hand. He couldn't afford even a slight slip of concentration—if he lost control over his grace, he could fry Kaia's brain.

"There," he said, directing Kaia's attention towards a universe featuring the distinctive obelisks of the Apocalypse World. Using her power, Jack entered the universe and started travelling towards the abandoned church he knew Mary was caged in.

"I see her," he muttered triumphantly as Mary came into view. He reached out to his grace and begun weaving it into a gateway between the two worlds. As the rift neared completion his vision warped and he was pulled back to the Bad Place.

"No, focus," he insisted. Focusing Kaia's power with his grace, he was able to push himself back to the Apocalypse World. However, his victory was short-lived, as he was once again transported away to the monster-infested world.

The continuous surges of power from the angels attempting to break the warding were making it harder and harder for Jack to keep control over both his and Kaia's power.

"I'm losing it!" the dreamwalker cried fearfully, and Jack could feel her desperately trying to stabilize her power.

Jack was unable to stop himself as he was rapidly shifted between the two universes. He gritted his teeth in concentration, pushing the limits on how much grace he could safely use to try to direct Kaia's power.

"Almost, almost," he encouraged,

A sudden power flux resulting from the angels breaking the wards ripped Jack's control from him. He couldn't stop the surge of grace that flowed through his fingertips, directly into Kaia's body. He heard her scream in agony as her mind and body were overloaded by the power flooding through them and could feel his and Kaia's delicate connection shatter. The way back to his world closing too rapidly for him to return and he was helpless as the backlash of energy catapulted him into the vast darkness of the multiverse.

In a panicked desperation, Jack directed one last burst of grace to open a rift in the warehouse in an effort to save his family. He prayed they would be able to travel through it and reach safety.

-o-O-o-

The darkness was constricting, the silence deafening.

Jack's chest felt heavy as he strained to see beyond the seemingly solid walls of black around him. He closed his eyes, the feeling slightly calming him. The sensation of his own personal darkness made him feel he could control it instead of it controlling him.

He had been able to view the multiverse only because of Kaia's power—she had been his eyes—but now their connection was gone. Jack was stranded, blind and deaf, in the void between worlds. His wings, once able to cross hundreds of miles in milliseconds, now felt leaden and heavy, like huge weights connected to his back.

The rhythmic beating of his heart was uncomfortably loud in his ears. Jack took a deep breath to calm himself, but his normally quiet breathing was near deafening in the constrictive silence and the sound only increased his panic.

The bright souls he could feel populating the universes that passed him were so vastly different from the lifeless abyss he was trapped in, yet he was unable to reach out or travel to any of the worlds.

At first, he held onto the hope that it was going to be ok. He kept faith in his family, in Sam, Dean and Castiel. He kept faith that they would find and rescue him. He kept faith that they'd be together again.

It hadn't worked for long.

Time was immeasurable in the endless void, but to Jack it felt like an eternity had passed. The even beating of his heart was slowly becoming maddening. His conviction that he'd be saved was slowly slipping away, the fragile optimism swallowed by the darkness of the abyss.

He stopped trying to call out to other beings in the void, stopped sending out cries for help, stopped his attempts to enter the worlds he passed. There was no point.

Every now and then Jack would get a burst of hope and try to do something to save himself. He knew it would always be futile, that nothing would come from it, and yet the logic didn't quell the irrational surges of hope. He would send out a pulse of grace for the slight chance that something would sense it and that it, whatever it may be, would be curious enough to investigate the power and would end up finding him. Nothing ever did. He began doing it less and less frequently.

It was useless.

There was no point in hoping for something different.

-o-O-o-

Jack had no idea how long he'd been in the void before something changed. He'd sent out a wave of grace, something he now did more out of habit than belief that he'd actually be saved, when he felt a response. From the depths of the abyss came and answering pulse of power.

It was something so shocking that for a few moments he was unable to do anything other than marvel at the fact that there was something else there. He quickly sent out another surge of grace and allowed himself to believe that it hadn't just been a product of desperation.

The sight of a glowing tendril of blue light almost convinced Jack that he had imagined the whole ordeal, but he forced himself to hold out hope.

During his time in the void he'd grown accustomed to the loud but steady beating of his heart, so he was taken by surprise when its pace picked up.

The eerie light approached him swiftly, and as it drew closer, he begun to feel a warmth radiating from it. After so long spent in the coldness of the abyss, the heat felt like a raging inferno.

He reached out to it, sluggishly flapping his wings to move closer. It was such an incredible feeling after so long in the sheer nothingness he'd been trapped in, he didn't even consider that anything that something could be amiss.

Jack's attempts to shorten the distance between him and the light halted as the heat slowly became scorching. He tried to backpedal, to somehow communicate with the light to stop, but it, whatever it was, continued on unfazed. It closed the last remaining distance between them, lashing forward with tremendous speed and surrounding him in its eerie glow.

The unbearable heat intensified even further when the light contacted his skin. He tried futilely to escape its crushing grip.

He couldn't even scream. The white-hot heat ripped relentlessly through his body, setting every one of his nerves alight as it scoured his body with agonizing fire. The frantic beats of his wings died to a stop and his thrashing steadily grew weaker. The all-encompassing pain somehow seemed to intensify.

His energy seemed to bleed out of him, his previously fervent struggles slowing to feeble quivering.

Through the haze of burning pain, Jack realized with horror what exactly the light was doing to him.

It was draining his grace.

* * *

**A/N: So, chapter 1. I hope you liked it. It was short, but they should get longer. The MCU comes into play next chapter.**


	2. Fall

**A/N: For those of you (like me) who live where it's already Christmas, Merry Christmas! Thank you all so much for the overwhelming support and feedback for the story so far. You've probably heard this from other authors, but I'm totally blown away. I never expected such a positive response. Thank you!**

**Quite a lot happens in this chapter, and there are some explanations for some of it in the end author notes. Also, there's a large section from the Avenger's perspective. Jack is referred to as 'it' by most of the Avengers and the narrator but Tony (mostly) refers to him as 'he' or 'kid'. It might be a bit confusing, so I thought I'd just give you a heads up.**

**Once again, thank you to Andromeda_M31 for beta reading.**

_**Disclaimer: Sadly, I don't own Supernatural or Marvel**_

* * *

fall  
_verb_

1\. move downward, typically rapidly and freely without control  
2\. (of a person) lose one's balance and collapse  
3\. be captured or defeated

* * *

The vicious battle raged in the streets of New York, six heroes battling valiantly against the hordes of Chitauri flowing through the portal in a never-ending stream.

The Avengers were too engaged in the fight to notice the pulse of energy the tesseract let loose. None of them saw a tendril of blue light unfurl from the cube and approach the jagged hole in space. None of the were watching as it plunged into the portal.

Even if they had been looking, they wouldn't have seen as the light traveled, not to the deep space the portal opened to, but to a void where nothing should live, where one being — one _child _— had been trapped for far too long.

No one was looking as tendril pulled back into the physical world. No one saw the winged figure it reeled back from the endless void.

The inhuman figure remained unobserved, even as it begun to fall limply from the portal hundreds of meters above the ground.

-o-O-o-

Jack woke abruptly to the heart-stopping feeling of falling.

His wings, wings which _shouldn't be corporeal_, instinctively jerked open and he let out a cry as echoes of fiery agony sent waves of pain throughout his body.

Wind howled in his ears, and he cringed away from the sound. It was deafening after so long spent with only his heartbeat for company. He tried to raise his arms to block his ears but struggled to move his limbs with the wind battering so strongly against them.

Jack squinted and had to resist the urge to close his eyes as they were assaulted by bright light. His vision was instantly blurred by tears that sprung to his eyes and he rapidly blinked them away. He was able to clear his vision in time to process the fact that he was flying directly towards a huge glass skyscraper, but it was too late to do anything.

Even though crashing was inevitable, he still flared his wings to try to slow himself, but he only succeeded in losing what little control he had. Physical flight wasn't something he'd done before — it wasn't something he shouldn't be _able_ to do — and that was made obvious by his lack of skill.

Jack crashed through the window, sending jagged shards of glass flying through the air. Rivulets of blood flowed from where the glass tore through his skin.

As he landed, a sickening _CRACK_ was accompanied by gut-wrenching agony shooting through his right wing. He let out a hoarse scream and was unable to stop the jerky flapping of his intact left wing, as if he could somehow fly away from the horrible pain. And he couldn't stop the awful screams that tore themselves from his throat, forming a terrible cacophony of agony.

He shouldn't be able to feel pain. His _wings_ shouldn't be able to feel pain. It was wrong_,_ and it was terrifying that they hurt so sharply and _physically_. Through the haze of agony, Jack desperately tried to reach out to his grace. He could heal it. He'd healed injuries before, he just needed to—

He was brought to a stumbling halt when all he encountered when reaching for his grace was sheer nothingness.

Jack's breath caught in his chest as the full implications of that realization crashed into him.

Black spots danced across his vision as he was hit by a wave of nausea and dizziness. He curled his legs into his chest and buried his head in his knees, letting out a choked sob.

He was powerless and injured in a world that wasn't his own.

Jack's heart beat out an erratic rhythm as he was slowly overwhelmed with panic. His breathing sped up, coming out in sharp, shallow gasps and suffocating any rational thought he had left.

He may be free from the void, but his situation was just as hopeless as it had been.

-o-O-o-

If Tony was perfectly honest, he'd had a pretty shit day.

_At least, _he thought to himself as he and Steve climbed into Stark Tower's elevator, _it can't get much worse than this. _He wished he could just fly to the penthouse like Thor, but his defective suit wouldn't allow it.

The speakers crackled slightly as JARVIS connected to them, and Tony sighed as he realized the wiring was damaged and he was going to have to fix it.

"Sir," the AI addressed him, "There is a foreign entity in the tower. It is not one of the Chitauri invaders and it is not human."

"Dammit," Tony muttered, straightening slightly. "Are you sure it's not Loki?"

"I am quite sure, sir."

_Well, ok. Maybe it can get worse, _he amended his earlier thought. "What's it doing right now?" he asked.

"It appears to be unconscious, sir, though it is beginning to stir. I do not think it will pose much of a threat, as it seems badly injured."

Tony slumped slightly in relief and let out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding. "Where is it?"

"It's on your personal floor. It crashed through the window and has destroyed much of the kitchen."

"Shit," Tony muttered, running a gauntleted hand down his face.

"We should tell the rest of the team to detain Loki," Steve said with a sympathetic glance at Tony. "We can deal with this, whatever it is."

Tony nodded tiredly in agreement, "You'll have to — my com's broken."

Steve raised a hand to his ear and quickly informed the team of what was going on. Once he was done, Tony raised a questioning eyebrow.

"They'll detain him and then come meet us," Steve said.

"JARVIS, take us to this, uh, thing."

"Right away, sir."

A few moments later the elevator doors slid open. Tony and Steve stepped out and started down the hallway. Neither of them were prepared for the scene that awaited them. It was something straight out of a horror movie.

Broken kitchen appliances and rough shards of blood-stained glass littered the floor. A jagged hole high in the glass wall allowed for powerful gusts of wind to blow through the room, scattering its contents. What really drew their attention was the small figure sitting huddled against the wall.

Two trembling, blood-splattered wings extended from its back. The left one was tightly folded and pressed almost protectively against its body, but the bloodstained right one sat at an unnatural angle — a sharp downward curve in the middle of the forewing — that indicating a break. It twitched sporadically but otherwise lay limply against the floor.

Streaks of blood coated the ground and created a path from the center of the room, where the alien must have crashed, to where it sat. More of the crimson liquid flowed sluggishly from numerous wounds littering its body. There was, in total, a concerning amount of blood splattered around the room.

The creature's lidded blue eyes gazed into the middle distance, glazed over and unfocused. It's gaze slowly shifted up to their faces and it adopted a confused expression at the sight of the two Avengers standing before it.

It stared at them silently for a moment before opening its mouth. "D… Dean? Ca… Cas?" it slurred, attempting to push itself from the wall. It quickly slumped back into its previous position with a groan of pain as its broken wing was jostled.

Tony and Steve exchanged troubled looks.

"I don't think it knows where it is," Tony murmured.

"Yeah," Steve said.

There was a beat of silence before Tony said, "I'll try approaching it. You stay back. We don't want overwhelm it."

"Be careful."

Tony stepped cautiously towards the injured alien, watching it carefully for a reaction. Its eyes zeroed in on him, focusing slightly.

"You… you're not C– Cas," it muttered thickly. Its eyes drooped and slid shut for a moment before snapping open again. "Who– who are you?" it asked, an edge of panic entering its voice.

Tony continued his wary approach, and the creature tried to press itself further against the wall.

"Stay– stay back," it begged, its voice now bordering on hysteria. Tears welled up in its eyes and it raised a shaky hand to shield its head. "Pl– please."

Tony stopped and looked back at Steve, hesitant to continue his advance. "I'm not sure if—"

Steve cut in, "You need to get to it. Even if it's not a threat, it's in desperate need of medical attention and we're the only ones who can provide it."

Letting out a sigh but nodding in agreement, Tony turned back to the alien and restarted his approach.

A twitch in its left wing was the only warning he got.

The feathered limb flew from where it had been folded and slammed into Tony at full force, throwing him across the room and sending him crashing into the kitchen cabinet.

The sudden violence was enough to throw Steve into a defensive stance, and he instinctively raised his shield.

The alien apparently recognized the danger it was in, for its eyes widened fearfully and it curled its unbroken wing around its body protectively.

"N- no! I'm… I'm sorry. I– I didn't mean to… please don't… I, I won't—" it was cut off as two more Avengers, Clint and Natasha, entered the room.

The archer stumbled to a halt and took a moment to process the scene in front of him. "What the _hell_?"

The creature turned its terrified gaze to the two new arrivals. "Pl– please. I– I don't know what— My grace… I, I need my— It's… it's gone," it let out a shaky breath, its outstretched left wing slumping to the ground. "My grace is gone," it whispered mournfully. Its eyelids drooped.

Clint glanced at his teammates in confusion.

"It's delirious," Steve said, lowering his shield.

"Yeah, no shit," the archer replied. "What should we do?"

"It needs medical attention," Natasha spoke up from where she had been observing the scene. "We need to know what it is and why it's here, and if it dies, we won't be able to get that information."

Tony groaned, drawing his teammate's attention. He slowly pushed himself from the ground. "I guess I should've seen that wing coming. Kid's like a wounded animal."

Clint snorted. "That's what it _is_."

Natasha shot them a glare, quickly silencing them. "It's unconscious now. We need to get it to the medical bay before it wakes up again. One of us needs to tell SHIELD."

"I'm not sure we should do that," Steve said, watching the alien.

Natasha narrowed her eyes. "Why?"

"Who knows how they'd respond. They'd probably just kill it and be done with this whole mess. I'm not sure its intentions are bad. _Look _at it."

"It's an _alien_, Steve. Loki was batshit _insane_. What's to say that this one won't be just as bad?" Clint snapped.

Tony raised a hand. "We can argue about what we'll do with him later. If we don't do something soon, the kid will die and there'll be no conversation to have. We _need_ to get him to the med bay."

Clint subsided with a glare and a muttered comment Tony couldn't make out.

"Its airway is open and it's breathing. We need to stabilize the neck, then splint the wing. After that we'll be able to move it to the med bay, where we'll tend its wounds," Natasha said.

Tony scrubbed his face. "Ok, sure. But a splint won't actually heal the wing. Won't we need, uh, pins or something? Not sure if any of you noticed, but there aren't any vets around here."

JARVIS said, "You are correct, sir. The bones will need to be pinned. Due to the recent invasion, I doubt any veterinarians will be available for some time. To stabilize its neck, you will need to apply a cervical collar. Once you do that, you should splint the wing and keep it immobile. I would recommend taping a board to the break before securing the entire wing to its body to keep it still. In the floor below yours you will be able to find the cervical collar, a board, bandages and tape, as well as a stretcher for transport."

"Thanks, J," Tony said.

"It is my pleasure, sir."

"Ok," Tony said, turning to Natasha. "Can you go get the stuff? JARVIS can lead you to it. We'll stay here and make sure the kid," he jerked his thumb at the comatose alien, "Doesn't act up."

Natasha nodded curtly and set off towards the elevator.

"So," Clint said as soon as the spy was out of earshot, "Can someone please explain to me what the _fuck _is going on?"

"To be honest I don't know myself," Tony admitted tiredly. "Steve and I were heading up to you guys to deal with Loki when JARVIS informed us of, uh, Lucifer here."

Steve raised an eyebrow. "Lucifer?"

"Hey, he's got black wings. What else do you propose we call him? _Pigeon_?"

"_Well_, we successfully detained Loki, if you were wondering," Clint interrupted, "Thor insisted on staying with him, and Bruce is totally out of it after his transformation back."

"Well, we won't need them to help handle this mess," said Tony. "Honestly, I felt kinda bad for the kid. He was so terrified."

Steve made a noise of agreement. "I don't think it means any harm, but that doesn't mean we can let down our guard. We don't know how it'll react when it wakes, and if it panics it could hurt itself even more."

"I don't get why you care," Clint said.

Tony narrowed his eyes. "Just because we don't want another invasion doesn't mean we're just gonna let the kid die," he said. "He's gotta be what, twenty? Younger? I'm not just leaving him here."

"It's an _alien_, Stark. Why is that so hard for you to understand? It's not human! It's not a _he, _it's not a _kid_. It doesn't need stupid nicknames. It's an _it_, that's all. We don't know _what_ it wants!" Clint shouted, stepping aggressively towards Tony. "I _don't care _how old it looks, or that it looks human. It's _not, _and it can't be trusted."

Tony narrowed his eyes dangerously. "Do you feel the same way about Thor? Maybe you should go tell him that's how you feel. Don't you think he'll _love _that? Maybe you can go up to Asgard while you're at it. You can share your thoughts with Odin."

Steve quickly stepped between Clint and Tony before the situation could escalate further. "Clint, calm down. I know you're still shaken over what Loki did to you but now isn't the time to let your anger out. And Tony, don't get too attached yet. Clint's right — we don't know what it wants."

Tony opened his mouth to retort but was cut off as Natasha re-entered the room with the equipment. She deftly applied the c-collar before turning to the other Avengers with a no-nonsense expression.

"To splint the wing, we'll first need to align the bone fragments," she pointed at Steve, "You do that with a gentle pull. Then," she gestured at Tony, "You shift it until it's lying on its side so Steve and Clint can fold the wing. Clint, once the wing is folded, you hold the board in place while I secure it to the primaries. After that, I'll tape the wing to its torso, so it doesn't unfold." Here, she paused and looked around for any objections. After receiving nods of agreement — though Clint's was rather reluctant — she continued. "Once we do that, we'll transfer it to the stretcher. When we get it to the med bay we need to wash, suture and dress its wounds. It's already lost a concerning amount of blood."

"We need to be extremely careful. If it wakes now it'll panic, and that would be disastrous, for us _and_ for it."

The four Avengers cautiously approached the figure still slumped against the wall. While it was unlikely, they were still ready for any kind of aggressive reaction. After a few seconds with no movement, Steve kneeled by the broken wing.

The soldier carefully took a hold of the proximal half of the right forewing. The black feathers were sticky with congealed blood, and he had to hold back a wince.

He gently grabbed the distal forewing and slowly pulled it until the two halves were aligned. The alien made a truly piteous sound as he did this, a breathless sort of whimper that sounded exactly like a kicked puppy.

"Clint, Tony," he breathed out, calling for his teammate's assistance. Clint stepped forward with a sigh and gingerly took a grip of the wing, grimacing as he did so.

Tony walked over to the alien's side. He carefully placed one gauntleted hand on its right shoulder and slowly lowered its torso until it lay against the floor. Clint and Steve made sure to move the broken wing as its body moved.

Tony quickly but carefully finished repositioning the alien, only stepping back once it was lying in the recovery position. Clint and Steve folded the wing painstakingly slowly, taking care not to jostle the break.

Tony let out a low whistle. "These wings really are huge."

"Did you just realize that?" Clint said, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, no. But I felt the need to comment on it," Tony defended.

Natasha cut in, "Shut _up_."

Once the wing was tucked in, Natasha approached, holding the board and tape. She handed the board to Clint and kneeled by the wing.

The archer held the splint against the break and made sure it stayed steady while Natasha secured it to the wing by wrapping the tape around it and the primaries. Once the splint was in place, she wrapped bandages around the wing and the alien's torso to keep it folded and properly immobilized.

The bandages were quickly soaked in the blood that still flowed from its wounds, but they accomplished their purpose and kept the wing still.

Tony once again stepped forward, this time holding the stretcher. He lay it next to the comatose alien and positioned himself at its feet. The other Avengers followed his lead, moving until they could support all six limbs while they shifted it to the stretcher.

Once they'd repositioned it, Steve and Tony took up positions on either end of the stretcher, stooping down to pick it up before beginning the trek to the med bay.

In the privacy of his own mind, Tony wondered how the fuck this had become his life.

* * *

**A/N: Poor Jack…**

**That wing splinting scene was a pain to write, and I still feel like it doesn't really work (btw a c-collar is just a neck brace).**

**Here are the promised explanations (feel free to skip over them if you don't care):**

**Why Clint's acting like he is:**  
_**It's kinda explained in the chapter, but basically Clint was the most effected by Loki, with the whole mind-control thing, so he's now very strongly against aliens (except for Thor). Sorry if you thought Tony's protectiveness was OOC.**_

**Why Jack has wings:**  
_**So angels send their wings to the etheric plane because of my headcanon that grace is stored in their wings, and if all their power was concentrated into small, physical vessels they'd be overloaded with power and burn up.**_  
_**So when Jack's in the void his wings are visible because there is no etheric plane for him to send them to, but they're still not really physical. The void is, after all, insubstantial. But then his grace gets drained in the void, and when he falls back into the physical world his wings are in the physical world but he can't send them back to the etheric plane because he doesn't any grace. Obviously they don't burn everyone's eyes or be overloaded by because, once again, he doesn't have grace.**_

**How the tesseract got Jack:**  
_**So picture a forest. Each tree is a universe of a fandom, and each branch is a universe within the fandom (like there's a Supernatural tree, which is the once Chuck has control over, and each of the branches is one of the AUs). The empty is like the soil — all of the trees are connected to it. When Jack was searching for the Apocalypse World, he was seeing the different branches of the Supernatural tree, but then he got flung out of the tree, so he was floating around the forest. He wasn't in the empty but he also wasn't in any of the universes.**_  
_**The void was only accessible because of the portal Loki opened, which connected two points on one branch. It's like little cracks spread out from the portal into the surrounding forest, which destabilized the space around it and allowed the tesseract to both sense Jack's grace and grab him. The void is also timeless, which is why Jack was able to go from 2018 in the Spn verse to 2012 in the MCU.**_


	3. Broken

**A/N: Hey! I'm back! I had the holiday and then my bday, so it did take the month I predicted last chapter, but here I am! Thank you so much for the continued support.**

**Andromeda_M31 has, once again, beta read this chapter.**

* * *

broken

_adjective_

1\. having been fractured or damaged and no longer in one piece  
2\. (of a person) having given up all hope; despairing

* * *

Tony buried his head in his hands, letting out a shaky breath.

The Avengers had finally decided to let the alien kid (who he'd dubbed Lucifer) wake up from the medically induced coma they had put him in. The kid who, he might add, had crashed into Stark Tower and somehow managed to make what was arguably the worst day of Tony's life even worse.

Although after watching JARVIS' recording of the crash, Tony had concluded that the experience hadn't been so great for Lucifer either. There'd been a lot of blood. And screaming. It hadn't been pretty, to say the least.

The clean-up of the invasion was going well. Tony had his company throw an appropriate amount of money at the operations. Thor dealt with the problems of Loki and the Tesseract by taking them back to Asgard, despite the WSC's protests. He'd promised Tony that he'd return to Earth (or Midgard, as he'd put it) to help him deal with Lucifer.

Bruce and Natasha had opted to stay at the tower with him. Bruce had spent most of his time in the lab, but made sure to regularly check up on Lucifer, even though JARVIS was constantly monitoring the alien's vitals (which, they had found, were remarkably human). Natasha was away most days, doing her super-secret spy thing for SHIELD, but she was at the tower when she could be, and Tony was still grateful for what assistance she did provide.

Steve had returned to his apartment despite Tony's offer to stay at the tower. He did visit regularly, both to help with the clean-up and to check up on how Lucifer was doing. He'd remained rather neutral on the whole situation, taking neither Tony's not Clint's side on things.

Clint… well, he hadn't changed his stance on Lucifer. He and Tony had had many explosive arguments, some of which had nearly come to blows. Tony had been staunchly defending the kid from all the accusations Clint had thrown at him and, if he were perfectly honest, he had even surprised himself by the ferocity at which he'd protected the kid. Tony didn't know where the archer was at the moment, but he did drop into the tower at times.

Pepper and Rhodey had reacted almost exactly as he thought they would. Pepper had exploded, yelling about how irresponsible Tony was (true) and how stupid it was to foster an alien right after an alien invasion (also true). That being said, she hadn't been quite as against the kid as Tony expected her to be.

Rhodey had deadpanned at Tony, and, after Pepper had calmed slightly, raised an eyebrow and asked "Seriously, Tony?" Other than that, he hadn't reacted much. Over the time they'd known each other he'd grown immune to Tony's shit.

During the four days the kid had been in a coma, JARVIS had found a vet who could (and would) pin his broken wing and wouldn't ask too many questions. The operation had gone smoothly, and the vet had taken the entire situation remarkably well, though Tony had still paid her quite a hefty sum of money to ensure she kept her silence. She'd also agreed to return for periodic check-ups and eventually remove the pins.

Tony hadn't been sure whether it would be safe to use drugs to keep Lucifer sedated, considering his inhumanness, but after JARVIS' scans had determined the kid's anatomy and DNA to be mostly human, Tony had decided it would be ok.

He'd also healed remarkably quickly. When they'd redressed the lacerations — results of him crashing into the window — they'd found that the wounds had already mostly healed.

Tony knew it was going to be fine. They had numerous safeguards ready for when the kid woke up, and if worst came to worst, they could always just gas him and hand him over to SHIELD, though Tony hoped dearly it wouldn't come to that. So yeah. Logically he knew it was going to be fine, but that didn't change how incredibly nervous he was about what the kid would do when he woke up.

-o-O-o-

Jack slowly came to with a soft groan. His head was muddled, like it had been filled with cotton. He scrunched his face up in displeasure from the sensation and slowly opened his eyes. He squinted, his eyes adjusting to the apparent brightness of the room he was in. _Where am I?_ He thought slowly, picking his head up as his vision started to focus. _What happ-_

His thoughts skidded to a halt as he processed the full implications of his situation. He was in a room. He was on a bed.

He was out of the void.

Not even the dull pain that enveloped his entire body could quell the overwhelming sense of joy that welled in his chest as he realized his family must've found and rescued him.

Jack let his head drop back against the pillow. He gazed at the ceiling, fighting against the giddy smile that threatened to spread across his face. The sharp, sterile scent of rubbing alcohol informed him he was in the bunker's med bay, but the patterns on the ceiling were unrecognizable.

He squinted slightly and tried to shake away the haze clouding his thoughts. Jack found he couldn't recall the events preceding his unconsciousness. All he could remember was the never-ending darkness of the void, the hopelessness of his situation and—

He couldn't remember anything else.

Jack pushed aside the concerns that realization arose. He ignored the nagging sense of wrongness telling him something was off, that if he were in the bunker Castiel, Dean and Sam would come to help him as soon as he woke. Surely there was an explanation. Surely it wasn't too much to believe something good had, for once, befallen him.

Jack shifted slightly and froze as he felt two weights connected to his back. He twisted sharply, disregarding the wave of pain that resulted from the action in favor of gaping at the wings, the physical wings, that extended from his back. The majority of the feathers were black, but small flecks of gold were visible throughout, like golden stars littered throughout the night sky. He moved them slightly, an action which resulted in a sharp pain pulsing from his right wing. It was so heavily bandaged it was almost double the size of the other, but the pain and the weight of the dressing only served to make them all the more real.

It shouldn't be possible. Wings could not be corporeal. They should be overloaded by his grace.

His grace which, he realized with a start, wasn't there.

His power, his essence, was gone. Jack's heart rate skyrocketed, and he jerked upright, only to be pulled back by the set of handcuffs that held him to the bed.

He was restrained. He wasn't in the bunker, it was undeniable. He hadn't been rescued by his family. He wasn't safe. He was a prisoner, and whoever held him captive had, somehow, subdued his grace.

The true severity of his situation came crashing down on him, and he couldn't hold back the tears that sprung to his eyes.

He was trapped, powerless and injured, in an unfamiliar world, being held captive by unknown forces. His world was gone, his family too.

He'd never hear Cas's quiet laughter, reserved only for when he found something truly funny. He'd never see another of Dean's gentle smiles, present when he thought no one was looking. He'd never again listen to Sam softly humming as he did tasks when he thought he was alone.

Even if he could get back to his world, the likelihood that they'd gotten to safety was laughably small. The warding, the only protection they'd had, had been broken by the angels. They were dead. They were all dead, and it was his fault. He'd been too weak, too slow. He'd not had enough control over his grace or Kaia's power.

Jack let out a choked sob, hanging his head as he was overwhelmed with fear and grief. He wasn't even able to wipe away the tears streaming down him cheeks.

He was weak.

He was a failure.

And now he was at the mercy of whoever was holding him prisoner.

-o-O-o-

Jack's tears had dried up. His panic had evaporated, replaced by a dull hopelessness that pervaded every inch of his consciousness. Even the pain had faded, leaving behind nothing but an empty numbness.

He lay in the bed, staring unseeingly at the ceiling above him. The walls of the room felt like they were slowly pressing in on him, making the large room feel like a tiny cell.

He'd scanned the room after he'd first managed to calm himself, had taken note of its smooth grey walls, windowless but with geometric patterns etched into them. He'd spotted a camera in an upper corner of the room with thin lines of wiring crawling into the ceiling, evidence that a speaker system was built into the stone behind it. It was probably safe to assume that his captors were watching him, cataloguing his reactions and studying him and planning and planning and planning and—.

The metallic beeping of the heartrate monitor quickened, drawing him from his panic. The sound droned ever on, punctuating the silence and only serving to taunt him as it recorded every time his pulse sped up as he was overwhelmed by yet another wave of panic.

It reminded him of the void, of the endless darkness filled only by his rhythmic heartbeat, the never-ending pounding that threatened to drown him.

He had to convince himself multiple times that he was ok, that no matter how dire his situation was he was out of the void. He was back in the physical world. It wasn't his world, but a world, and any world had to be better than the abyss.

Jack took a deep breath and closed his eyes, letting his head thump back against the pillow.

The door opened.

* * *

**A/N: Who is it?**

**You'll find out eventually. Feel free to guess :)**

**The nickname Lucifer has stuck. Oh Tony, if only you knew.**

**It's not that clear, so I'll just clarify that not much time passed in the parts from Jack's POV. In the void he kinda lost the ability to measure the flow of time.**

**Now a few explanations:**

**When you wake up from a medically-induced coma there's actually a period when you're awake and the breathing tube and stuff are removed, after which you fall back into a natural sleep. When you wake up from that you don't remember the first time you woke up, which is why it's not mentioned here — Jack doesn't remember it.**

**And as for the quickened healing — when an angel leaves a vessel it leaves some of its grace behind. Similarly, when the tesseract took Jack's grace some remnants were still there. It's not enough for him to use, or even register, but it quickens his healing and enhances his strength. It also means that once the bone heals he will be able to fly, even though technically his wings aren't large enough to support his weight.**


	4. Question

**A/N: Greetings, I have returned.**

**Thank you all so much for the response to last chapter! And thanks to Andromeda_M31 for once again taking the responsibility of fixing all my stupid mistakes.**

* * *

question  
verb

1\. ask (someone) questions, especially in an official context.  
feel or express doubt about; raise objections to.

* * *

_Jack took a deep breath and closed his eyes, letting his head thump back against the pillow._

_The door opened._

Jack's eyes snapped back open, his heart jumping to his throat. He jolted up into a sitting position, where his wide eyes met those of the man who had entered the room. He froze like a rabbit before a wolf, and there was a moment of stillness before his adrenaline kicked in.

Jack scrambled back in the bed, only to be jerked to a halt by the handcuffs holding him in place. He yanked his hands towards himself and, in that moment of panic, with strength born of hysteria, adrenaline, and tiny dredges of grace he didn't even know he had; he broke the cuffs.

The man's eyes widened fractionally, and he took a small step back. His hand made an aborted movement towards his ear, but then he seemed to gather himself and, after a quick glance at the camera in the room's corner, stepped cautiously towards the bed.

Jack scrambled backwards until his back was pressed against the cold grey wall. He let out a gasp of pain as his injured wing was jostled. His left wing instinctively curved around him, adding an extra layer of protection to the tiny ball he'd curled into.

After a few endless seconds of silence with only his ragged breathing for company, Jack lowered his wing slightly and peered fearfully over the feathered barrier. His throat tightened at the sight of the man standing beside the bed, just a few meters away from Jack. His face was all but expressionless, though there was a calculating look in his piercing blue eyes which, paired with his broad shoulders and muscular build, created an intimidating figure. Jack shrunk back further, wishing the wall would swallow him whole.

After another moment of stillness, Jack gathered the courage to speak. "Who… who are y– you?" he asked hoarsely, the sound grating past his dry throat. He took a shaky breath before continuing. "Wh— where am I?"

The man considered him for a moment, cocking his head to the side slightly, as though listening to something. After a short pause he spoke. "I'm Steve Rogers, I'm human. You're on Earth. All I want to know is what you're doing here." His voice was deep, with an air of command about it.

"I'm— I'm not—" Jack's response was cut off by a fit of hacking coughs. He gasped for breath, trying and struggling to inhale. Each cough was accompanied by a hoarse, tugging pain in his chest, as if he were trying to expel his insides. He saw movement in the corner of his eye but ignored it in favor of hunching over and clenching his eyes shut, taking shuddering breaths to calm himself.

He looked up and blinked in surprise when he saw that Steve was holding out a glass of water.

_When did he get that?_

Though Steve was still tense and guarded, there was a softness in his features that hadn't been there before, a glimmer of sympathy visible behind the mask of emotionlessness. Jack cautiously crept forward and took the proffered drink, keeping a wary eye on Steve even as he greedily gulped down the water.

Once Jack finished drinking, he carefully set the empty glass to the side. The act of good faith had calmed him slightly, which had given him time to rationally think about the situation. He held none of the cards here. His best bet was to answer their questions and hope that he would soon remember the circumstances of his arrival, be able to get his grace back from wherever they'd taken it, and then work out a way to return to his world.

Jack glanced down at the broken handcuffs which were still attached to his wrists, finally taking a moment to wonder how he'd broken the chain. Was his strength indicative of some remaining grace? If that were the case, maybe he'd be able to use it to find the rest.

Jack was drawn from his thoughts as Steve cleared his throat, and he looked up to see the man watching him with a raised eyebrow.

"I asked if you were feeling better," he repeated.

"O– oh, yes. I— uh, thank you."

Steve considered him for a moment more. "Look," he said, crouching down so their eyes were level. "I know how you feel. I've been in your place before. Waking up surrounded by strangers in a place you don't know, I know what it's like," he paused for a moment, trying to find the right words. "We only want to help you. We can help you get back to your planet, but we need to know what you are and where you're from."

Jack shifted uncomfortably, his posture showing his mistrust. "If you want to help me then why did you take my grace?" he said accusingly.

Steve's brow furrowed in confusion, "Your what?"

Jack gritted his teeth. It was bad enough that they'd steal his grace, but to then act oblivious about it? His previous resolution to go along with them evaporated in a burst of sudden, uncharacteristic fury. Jack pushed himself away from the wall, spreading his intact wing to its full extent and glaring down at Steve.

Said man backed away slowly, his hand creeping towards his leg, where Jack assumed some sort of weapon was stowed.

Ignoring the very real threat of being shot, Jack begun raging at Steve, his eyes glowing an eerie blue. "Don't pretend you don't know! You just— you can't expect me to believe that you _care_. If you wanted to help me get home, you wouldn't have pulled me here in the first place! It's not your power, it's not—"

Jack's tirade was abruptly cut off by a calm British voice. "If you do not back down, I will not hesitate use drastic measures to ensure Captain Rogers remains unharmed."

Jack staggered to a halt, the haze of fury leaving as soon as it had come. He looked around the room with wide eyes, stumbling away from Steve in hasty retreat. His left wing quickly folded, pressing tightly against his back.

"I– I don't know what— I'm sorry… I didn't—" his knees hit the edge of the bed and buckled under him, forcing him to sit. Even though Steve remained in place, Jack shrank away from him, tears welling in his eyes. His ears were ringing, the piercing sound steadily growing louder and louder. Jack ducked his head, blocking his ears as the noise grew overwhelming.

Out of the corner of his eye, Jack saw Steve raise a hand to his ear and begin a whispered argument with whoever was on the other side.

The ringing in Jack's ears subsided in time for him to hear the tail end of the argument, namely Steve hissing "Tony, I can handle this," into his earpiece before letting out a frustrated groan at whatever response this 'Tony' gave him.

There was another stretch of silence before the door opened once again, this time revealing a short man with brown hair and a neat goatee.

"Steve, you've done enough. The poor kid is terrified," he said firmly.

Steve opened his mouth to protest, but Tony (or at least, the man Jack assumed to be Tony,) beat him to it. "No, you don't get to respond to that. My tower, my rules. Out."

Steve sighed and nodded reluctantly before leaving the room.

Tony turned towards the door but hesitated, glancing at Jack, who was watching him with fearful eyes. The man twisted, stepping back into the room. He pulled something — an earpiece — out of his ear and gave it a look of distaste before pocketing it and crouching next to the bed.

"Hey," he said gently, "It's ok. It's all gonna be ok," and it was said so sincerely, with such a genuine honesty, that Jack couldn't help but trust him. "I'll make sure it all works out fine."

And then he smiled at Jack, an expression filled with such compassion and warmth that it lifted a weight from his chest. Because if, even after everything that had happened, this man was still on his side.

Then everything _would _be ok.

And so, Jack smiled back.

* * *

**A/N: ****I wanted this to be longer but the ending was too perfect.**

**Just letting you know that the glow of Jack's eyes when he got angry wasn't his grace. What it was will be explained next chapter.**

**I now have an outline of what exactly is going to happen for the remainder of the story. It's gonna be a wild ride, and I also have an idea for how I can leave it open for a sequel.**


	5. Discuss

**A/N: Thank you all for the continued support! And thank you again to Andromeda_M31 for editing!**

* * *

discuss  
_verb_

1\. talk about (something) with another person or group of people.  
talk or write about (a topic) in detail, taking into account different ideas and opinions.

* * *

Tony stopped just before he entered the room where the other Avengers — minus Thor — were waiting, readying himself for the outburst that would inexorably occur. His talk with the kid had gone surprisingly well, especially after the mess Steve had made, but he knew that the others would only focus on how 'irresponsible' his actions had been.

And, well, they wouldn't be wrong.

Tony shook himself out of his thoughts, focusing on the task at hand. He took a breath to steady himself before putting up his cocky public façade and swaggering into the room. He ignored the disapproving looks most of the Avengers were levelling at him, and the downright glower he was receiving from Clint.

"Well," he said, collapsing onto a chair, "That went fantastically."

Clint sneered. "Like fuck it did, Stark. I told you that thing couldn't be trusted. Steve could've died, all because you didn't want all of us to go in. What did you say? That we'd 'overwhelm it?'"

"I wouldn't have died," Steve said.

Tony raised an eyebrow at Clint, ignoring Steve's interjection. "If that's how he reacted to Steve, what do you think he would've done if we'd all walked in?"

"At least if we'd all been there, we wouldn't have had to rely on your robot butler to save our asses," he snarled.

"Excuse me, that's offensive. I'm offended," Tony said, "JARVIS is offended. Aren't you, JARVIS?"

"Extremely, sir."

"See, look. You've offended him."

"Fuck you, Stark."

Tony waggled his eyebrows. "I know you want to."

Natasha rolled her eyes. "If I may," she cut in firmly, "I managed to get a read on him during that interaction."

Clint and Tony, not wanting to incur Natasha's wrath, stopped arguing and turned to her.

"His fear wasn't an act. He was sincerely terrified, which indicates that he's never been in a situation like this before."

"So, he's a civilian?" Bruce asked.

"Yes," Natasha confirmed, "But even more than that, I think he's young. He unquestioningly drank the water you gave him. Only children would be trusting enough to accept a drink from an unknown alien, especially not after waking up, restrained, by those very same aliens."

"Wait, what?" Tony said, eyes wide. "Do you mean to say the kid's actually a kid?"

Bruce spoke up. "He also wasn't confused or curious when he was told he was on Earth, or that Steve was human. That means he's either heard of Earth before, or he's been here."

"I'm sure we'd know if he'd been here before, but his knowledge of English does point towards him having prior knowledge of Earth," Natasha said.

"We'd already know this if Steve had just done his job," Tony grumbled, crossing his arms.

"I didn't know that's how he was going to react!" Steve protested.

Clint scowled. "Yeah, because it's just as crazy as Loki! I told you this was going to happen!"

"No one gives a shit, Barton. Here, look. JARVIS, pull up a feed of what the kid's doing. Show us how crazy he is."

"Yes, sir."

A holographic screen flickered into existence, showing the kid sitting on the edge of his bed. His left wing was half extended, and his face was one of cautious curiosity. His head was tilted slightly to the side, and as they watched he reached a hand up to gently nudge the extended limb. It was almost as though he was testing to see if it were there.

"Ah yes, that kid is gonna be the one to kill us all. He's the antichrist. Woe unto us," Tony said, raising an eyebrow at Clint.

"Yeah, well—"

"Will you two shut up?" Natasha growled, giving Clint and Tony a death-glare. The men were quick to quiet, neither of them eager to be on the receiving end of the thinly veiled threat concealed in the glower.

"Look, I know I could've handled that better," Steve said after a few moments of silence, "But there's nothing we can do about it now. What we can do is use what we got to better prepare for next time," he paused, gathering his thoughts. "During his, uh, outburst, his eyes were glowing. I don't know what it was, but after JARVIS's intervention it was almost as though he'd been snapped out of a daze."

"If I may," said AI cut in, "I believe I have the answer to what it was. During the Child's 'outburst,' as Captain Rogers put it, there was a surge of energy that matched the Tesseract's energy signature perfectly. When he broke the handcuffs there was a similar burst of energy, although it was accompanied by power with a completely different signature. If I had to describe the other energy I'd call it 'pure.'"

"He has energy from the Tesseract?" Bruce asked, slightly panicked.

"That would appear to be the case, Dr. Banner."

"But that— that could be disastrous! The Tesseract's energy — the gamma radiation mixed with its supernatural power — when contained within an organism can, well, does effect brain chemistry! That's why I need such tight control over my emotions. The energy influences and amplifies them."

"Well," Steve said, "I was going to say that maybe the 'other energy' is the 'grace' he was talking about but…" he trained off. "Maybe that's what the outburst was. The Tesseract's energy intensifying his emotions."

"Ok," Tony cut in, "I know you didn't want me going in the first time because I'm too 'emotionally attached' to the kid, but I think I should go in next time," he said, "If this is true, then we can't let him get angry or scared, because the Tesseract — and I still want to know why the kid has its energy — will just amplify those emotions," he paused to take a breath. "In five seconds, and I'm not even exaggerating when I say that, I managed to get him to smile. I'm sure I'll be fine if I go in."

Clint scoffed. "We want information, Stark, not a pet."

An exasperated scowl crossed over Bruce's face, and he slammed his fist down on the table. The uncharacteristic act of violence from the usually calm scientist instantly brought other Avengers' attention to the man. They watched him warily, all hoping this wasn't an indication that things were about to go pear-shaped — not that things had been going particularly well to begin with.

Bruce's voice was dead calm. "We need to focus on the issue at hand. I get that your views on this are different to, well, everyone's, but we don't have time for your disagreement right now."

Clint nodded hurriedly. He may have persisted arguing even after Natasha's order to stop, but not even he was stupid enough to continue something that was angering the Hulk.

Actually, the lengths his idiocy could reach was rather difficult to determine. Records were constantly being broken.

Bruce nodded in satisfaction, straightening from where he'd leaned over the table. "Good. Now, who wants to cordially continue the conversation?"

The tension drained out of the room, and the Avengers let out a collective sigh of relief.

After a few moments of silence, Steve said, "I agree with you, Tony."

Tony gaped at Steve. "Did you hear that? He— I'm not letting you forget that."

Steve rolled his eyes but continued. "You left a good impression on him. I… can't say the same."

Natasha looked back at the screen which still showed the kid. JARVIS had dimmed the lights in the room. "He's sleeping right now," she said, "We should give him some time to cool down, but I agree that Tony should go in next time."

"Sounds good," Tony said, jumping to his feet, "Are we all in agreement?" The other Avengers nodded. Clint scowled, but didn't protest. "Ok, great talk guys. We're such an amazing team. I'll be in my workshop if you need me."

He strolled out of the room, sagging as soon as he was out of eyesight. "Oh, god," he muttered, taking a shuddering breath. He leaned against a wall, shutting his eyes and allowing himself a moment of weakness and to fully process everything that had just happened.

I told the kid it would all be ok. I'm going to keep that promise.

Squaring his shoulders, Tony took another, more steady breath. He pushed himself off the wall and made his way to his workshop, crashing onto the chair once he arrived.

"That was a disaster."

"While I wouldn't disagree with that, sir, you did manage to gain the others' agreement. You will now be able to help the Child more directly."

"Yeah, yeah," Tony sighed, straightening from where he'd slumped into his chair. He gazed listlessly at the numerous unfinished projects he had scattered on the tabletop. "What am I even doing?" he groaned.

"Tesseract energy? What does— how the fuck does the kid have 'Tesseract energy?' The Tesseract isn't even on Earth anymore! It's—"

Tony shuddered, remembering the sickly blue beam of light tearing a gaping hole through the sky, and how he'd scrabbled against the bomb, and the darkness and the empty and—

"Sir. Sir," JARVIS snapped Tony from the flashback before it could sink its claws deep into him, "It is the 7th of May 2012. You are on Earth, in New York. You are safe."

Tony nodded slowly, taking deep breaths. "Yeah," he muttered, cradling his head in his hands. "Yeah. I know," he took another breath, "I'm ok. I'm ok."

"I would recommend taking things slowly, as you still appear to be shaken by all that has happened over the last three days," the AI said, "You have time to work everything out and I will, as always, assist you however I am able."

"Thanks, buddy. I don't know what I'd do without you."

"Honestly, sir? Neither do I."

* * *

**A/N: So, some explanations in there! I hope everything made sense...**

**The Tesseract energy Jack has is basically backwash from when it took his grace.**


	6. Darkness

**A/N: *slides in on socks* Wash your hands, my dudes.**

**I love you all for all the support and ****feedback.**

**And thanks (again) to Andromeda_M31!**

* * *

darkness  
_noun_

1\. the partial or total absence of light.  
night.  
2\. wickedness or evil.  
unhappiness or gloom.  
lack of spiritual or intellectual enlightenment; ignorance.

* * *

_Jack studied the chess board with an expression of fascination as Sam, who sat across from him, explained the moves the various pieces could make._

_"This is the queen," Sam said, pointing at the piece that stood on one of the middle two squares, "She's the most powerful piece in the game. She can move any number of squares vertically, horizontally or diagonally."_

_He glanced up at Jack, who nodded in understanding. "So, you don't want your opponent to take your queen?"_

_Sam smiled. "Exactly!" He then gestured to the piece sitting on the other centre square. "This is the king. If you take—"_

_He was cut off by a loud bang that sounded throughout the bunker. Sam looked up in alarm._

_"Cas?" he called out warily after a few moments of silence._

_No response._

_Sam got to his feet and grabbed the angel blade resting on the mantlepiece. "Jack, wait here." He crept cautiously into War Room, intent on finding out what had made the noise._

_Jack waited anxiously in the library for a few moments, but when he heard a pained shout from Sam, he ignored the man's previous order and rushed after him. He skidded to a stop as he saw the group of angels standing at the top of the staircase, one of them using their grace to keep Sam pinned to the wall._

_"You humans really think your warding is impenetrable?" one of them was saying, "It took time, but not even the strongest of magic can stand up to heaven's might."_

_"And," another angel said, "This time we're not letting you Winchesters go." _

_The invisible force keeping Sam pinned to the wall slackened, allowing him to drop to the floor. He staggered slightly as he landed, dazed._

_There was a flap of wings and one of the angels appeared behind Sam. He twisted as he heard the sound, raising his blade to protect himself, but he was too slow._

_Jack threw out a hand, using his grace to knock the angel out of the way. _

_Nothing happened. _

_She thrust her angel blade forward, stabbing it through Sam's back. Jack was locked in place, paralysed; horror and fear etched into his features. _

_She turned to Jack; a bloodthirsty grin plastered on her face. Jack's heart gave a sickening lurch as he recognised her. She had a different vessel, yes, but she was the same angel from his first day on Earth, the angel who had stabbed him with an angel blade and had tried to kill Sam and Dean._

_And this time she'd succeeded. She'd murdered Sam._

_She yanked the weapon out, keeping her gaze fixed on Jack. "I'm so glad you recognise me," she purred before melting away without even a wingbeat._

_The clatter of the angel blade falling to the floor resounded in the empty room as Sam collapsed forward, blood gushing from his wound._

_"Sam!" Jack cried, breaking from his terrified stupor. He dived towards the man lying limply on the bunker floor. "S— Sam! No!"_

_Tears welled in Jack's eyes as he cradled Sam's lifeless body. It couldn't be real. This couldn't be real. Sam couldn't be dead._

_Angels had taken enough from him already. They'd been there, in the warehouse with the failing warding. Jack had been pulled into the void, and the angels had broken through the wards, his family's last line of defence, and the angels had killed them, and they'd killed Sam here, too. They'd killed him and he was dead and it was all Jack's fault. If he'd just had his grace, or been a little bit faster—_

_The door slammed open and Dean barged into the room. There was a moment of incomprehension as he took in the scene before him — the otherwise empty room, the bloody angel blade lying by Jack, his brother's bloody corpse. His eyes hardened, fury taking over his expression. Jack could feel_ _the rage rolling off him in waves._

_Dean begun advancing on Jack. "You did this," he hissed, raising the angel blade he had clutched in his hand._

_Jack's eyes widened, and he scrambled back, pressing against the wall. "No," he stuttered, "N– no, I swear, I didn't—"_

_Dean was across the room in a second, his fingers wrapping around Jack's throat and pulling him up the wall. Jack thrashed, clawing desperately against Dean's hand._

_"You fucking **monster**. I told you what I'd do when you turned against us." Fire burned in Dean's eyes. _

_Dark spots crowded at the corners of Jack's vision. _

_Dean let out a snarl, and, in one swift moment, plunged the blade into Jack's chest. _

_Jack's throat tightened, making it impossible to let out anything but a choked gasp. A dull roar started in his ears, building into a deafening crescendo._

_Dean yanked the blade out and let Jack drop to the floor. The Nephilim crumpled; his limbs unable to support his weight. He looked down at the gaping wound, his eyes wide and fearful. Blood was spilling everywhere. The room was dripping with red._

_Jack's fingers fumbled clumsily with the wound, the last dredges of his grace futilely working to heal it._

_He could feel, in an oddly detached sort of way, himself doubling over, choking, gagging, vomiting, and dark blood was splattered on the floor and there was fire in his chest and his vision was darkening and Dean was just standing there, watching, waiting, and Sam was **dead** and everything was bloodstained, everything was red, and then everything was black and he was falling into the void and he—_

_And he couldn't—_

Jack woke with a gasp. His heart pounded in his ears, echoed by the metallic beeping of the heart rate monitor. He looked around frantically, trying to see through the layer of darkness that suffocated the room. He raised a hand to his chest, remembering the stabbing pain from the nightmare.

He staggered out of the bed, wincing as his wings knocked over the cup of water resting on the bedside table. They were unwieldy enough when he could see them.

Jack stumbled across the room, his hands reaching into the dark to ward off any obstacles.

He tried not to think about the void, about its constricting darkness and how similar this was. It was useless. The room's darkness was choking him, dragging him back into the nothingness. Jack's breathing quickened. No, he couldn't go back. He would do _anything _not to go back.

Light. He needed light.

Jack blindly groped the wall for a switch, his panic increasing with each second he didn't find it.

Part of him, the rational part, kept saying he was fine, that the fact that he could feel the wall and the floor was proof that he was safe, but the overwhelming majority of him was screaming about the _things _lurking in the darkness, waiting for him to drop his guard, waiting to pull him, kicking and screaming, back to the void.

Jack jerked away from the door as it opened, flooding the room with a sudden, blinding light. Even as he leapt away, raising a hand to shield his eyes, he could feel himself regaining his composure as the dark was chased away.

He peered at the silhouette that stood in the doorway, trying to make out who it was. Was it Steve? Tony? Or someone new?

He hoped it was Tony.

-o-O-o-

Tony had nearly been asleep when JARVIS alerted him to Lucifer's distress.

He had, in his groggy state, taken a moment to muse over the fact that they still hadn't found out the kid's name, but those thoughts had been quickly chased away by the more pressing issue.

The kid was having a nightmare. And, by the sound of it, it was a pretty bad one. Even JARVIS had sounded concerned.

That made two of them.

Tony rushed to the lift, instructing JARVIS to get him to the kid's room. The elevator ride took far too long. As he waited, Tony took a moment to wonder at the protectiveness he felt over the kid. When he thought about it, it _was _strange. For all he knew, the others could be _right_. The kid could just be waiting for them to drop their guards. He could have some sort of malicious intent, some devious plan. He could be the monster Clint seemed to think he was.

Tony shook his head, dispelling those thoughts.

They had no idea what the kid was, or how he had gotten here. That was true. But who knew what would happen to him if they handed him over to SHIELD? He wouldn't be getting home, that's for sure. Tony had refused to even consider the possibility when his teammates had suggested it. The kid deserved the benefit of the doubt.

The elevator dinged, drawing him from his thoughts.

Tony made his way quickly to Lucifer's room, pointedly ignoring his thoughts about how the other Avengers would react when they found out what he was doing. The plan had been for him to go in after the kid woke up. He never said he'd inform the team when exactly that was. If he did tell them they'd force him to make a 'plan' and tell him to be 'careful.'

Imagine actually planning ahead.

He instructed JARVIS to turn on the lights as he pressed the button that slid the door open, worried about what would be waiting on the other side.

The kid was standing by the bed, his unbroken wing half-open and curled protectively around him. He was peering cautiously at Tony with slightly glazed eyes, as though he were still dazed from the nightmare. He appeared to have been in a state of panic, but it seemed he was calming now. The trembling in his limbs was fading, and his breathing was evening.

Tony saw what was going to happen just before it did and rushed forward as the kid's knees buckled under him, sending him crashing to the ground.

"Hey, hey," Tony said, catching him under his arms and lifting him onto the bed, "The nightmare's gone. It wasn't real. It's gone."

The kid nodded slowly, and after a moment full awareness seemed to return to him. His eyes widened in surprise and darted anxiously around the room before settling on Tony. His hand ghosted over his heart, dropping to his lap a moment later.

Tony noted the movement with a little confusion but dismissed it as nerves.

The kid's brow furrowed slightly as he looked at Tony. "Steve called you Tony," he said, cocking his head to the side. "Is that your name?"

He was remarkably calm, considering his previous interactions with the Avengers and the nightmare that had preceded this one. Tony must have left a greater impression than he had thought.

"Yeah, that's me," he said, crouching by the bed and trying to look as non-threatening as possible. "What about you? What's your name?"

"Jack," the kid — Jack, apparently — said. It was a bit disappointing, really, how mundane a name it was. But, well, not every alien that crashed to Earth could come from a religion. Learning that Norse mythology was real had been enough of a shock for Tony's atheist heart.

"Hi, Jack," Tony said with a small smile. He resolved not to use nicknames until the kid got to know him a bit better. Wouldn't want to freak him out.

"Hello," Jack waved slightly.

Tony weighed his options quickly. His teammates would want him to start firing questions at Jack about where he came from and why he was here, but Tony thought that he should probably try to build a bit more trust with the kid first.

"Is there anything I can get you?" He quickly scanned the kid to see if there was anything he obviously needed.

Oh, shit. The broken handcuffs were still clamped around his wrists.

"Do you have water?" Jack asked carefully.

"Yeah, I can get some. But first," he gestured at the cuffs, "May I?"

Jack glanced down at his wrists, comprehension flitting over his expression. He held out his hands, allowing Tony to quickly deactivate the cuffs. He still didn't understand how Jack had been able to break them.

Jack rubbed his wrists. "Thank you."

"Not a problem." Tony stood, ready to go get some water. The billionaire within him rebelled against the idea of being the kid's butler — that was what JARVIS was for — but he stamped it down with an internal scowl. He paused as the kid spoke up again.

"Could you please, uh, leave the lights on?" he spoke quietly, almost as if he were afraid of how Tony would react.

"That's what I had planned," Tony said, careful to keep his tone jovial.

The kid relaxed marginally, his shoulders slumping in relief.

Tony mused over the implications of that as he left the room. Once he got back, he would ask the kid a few non-invasive questions. Hopefully that would alleviate at least some of the anger he knew the other Avengers would feel when they found out he had talked to Jack without telling them.

Tony sighed, staring morosely at the glass of water he'd grabbed. He really hadn't thought this through.

* * *

**A/N: ****Me: Oh wow, the plot is progressing so slowly, I need to speed it up ;-;  
****Also Me: *uses hundreds of words on a dream sequence***

**On the bright side, this is the longest chapter so far! And also some hurt and comfort! Yay!**

**Make sure to keep safe in these trying times. This is gonna be hard for all of us. (On the bright side, no school means its gonna be way easier for me to maintain my update schedule :D)**


	7. Reflection

**A/N: April Fools Day!**  
**My prank to all of you is an early chapter.**

**Once again, big thanks to Andromeda_M31 for beta reading :)**

* * *

reflection  
_noun_

1\. serious thought or consideration.  
an idea about something, especially one that is written down or expressed.

* * *

"You have heart."

Clint was going to have nightmares about those words for the rest of his life because of all that had followed. The spear's touch had burned. Burned his heart, leaving it scorched in his chest. Burned his blood, boiling it in his veins. Burned his mind, turning his will to ash.

And then, once it was all done, another alien had crashed to Earth and he'd struggled to hold back his dread. Because they'd beaten Loki, that invasion was over. But who knew what this one wanted, or what it would do when it woke up?

But Clint had taken a deep breath and resolved to be fair, to withhold his judgment until he could gauge the alien's purpose and its motivations.

But then Stark had to go and be so damn protective of the alien, and he'd acted so comfortable around it, and Clint had just snapped. How could Stark trust the alien? How could he be so vehement in his defensiveness of it when they had no idea what it truly wanted?

And then the other Avengers had all sided against Clint, and he had grown bitter. He'd staunchly stuck with the position he'd taken because his pride wouldn't allow anything else. But he hadn't wanted to make this into the war it had become, he didn't want it to be him against his teammates.

And that was the main problem, wasn't it? Clint had, dare he say, grown resentful. He felt it was the alien's fault his teammates had turned against him. But, if he were perfectly honest with himself, he was the one at fault.

Clint scrubbed his eyes and heaved a sigh. He stared sullenly into the mug of coffee that sat before him.

He should talk to Stark. He should swallow his pride and have an actual discussion with the man. He should try to explain his stance and get him to see why he should be more careful around the alien.

He picked up the mug and drained it before standing up and making his way to the elevator. He would do those things.

He asked Stark's AI to take him to the man's workshop. The AI almost seemed hesitant, and Clint considered asking if anything was wrong. He dismissed the idea, chalking the oddness up to his imagination. Instead, he continued to mull over his previous thoughts.

He would swallow his pride and drop some of the baseless prejudice he held towards the alien. He'd stay wary around him, of course, but he would try to be fairer with his arguments, to let go of his unfair hostility.

He'd still make sure the alien knew what would happen if he betrayed them, though. Clint might be deciding to take a step back and look at the whole situation a bit more objectively, but that didn't mean he would entirely abandon his previous stance.

Because they still needed to be wary. Clint could have been right. The alien might be just like Loki.

Clint squared his shoulders.

If that were the case, and if it came to it, he still wouldn't hesitate to kill him.

-o-O-o-

Jack looked up at the ceiling, trying to ignore the dry ache in his throat and the dull throb of his wrists. A considering expression was on his face. His mind was racing.

Tony was genuinely concerned about him, that much was obvious. And if his intentions were pure, surely that meant he and his teammates weren't the ones who had taken Jack's grace, which would indicate that Steve had been telling the truth. That they honestly didn't know what grace was, or how Jack had gotten here.

But that left the looming questions of what had taken his grace and how he'd been dragged to this alternate world. The only new thing he remembered about his arrival was a fiery pain and then the sensation of falling. It was hazy, as though hidden behind a layer of thick fog, but it was more than he'd had when he'd first woken up. It still wasn't much to go off, though.

Jack's head jerked down as the door slid open again, revealing Tony, holding a glass of water.

"I'm back!" he said with a smile, prompting Jack give him a small grin in return. Tony set the cup down on the bedside table.

"Thank you," Jack said, grabbing the glass and gulping down the water.

Tony waited for him to finish drinking before sitting down on a chair Jack could've sworn hadn't been there a few moments ago.

His confusion must've shown because Tony explained its sudden appearance by saying, "Oh, yeah. The chair. I was bored and had spare time. I was also high on sleep deprivation. Don't ask."

Jack nodded, not understanding at all. He didn't ask.

"Anyway," Tony said, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. "Steve told you this already, but we really do want to help you. Now, I'm assuming you want to get back home. We can help you."

Jack shifted uncomfortably. "I don't know if you'll be able to do that."

Tony raised an eyebrow. "We know a guy with a rainbow bridge that can teleport anywhere in the universe. I'm sure we'll manage."

"I'm from Earth, though," Jack said slowly. "Just not this one."

Tony's brows furrowed.

"It's an alternate universe," Jack explained.

"Huh," Tony adopted a considering expression. Jack could almost see his mind racing. "How do you know this isn't your world, though? You haven't really seen all that much of this one."

Jack tapped his temple. "I can't hear the angels."

"The… angels?"

"Yes. They talk and I can hear them. But they're not here."

"Huh. Angels. How do you hear them?" Tony looked at Jack's wings. "Are you an 'angel' too?" He sounded genuinely curious, but the way he said the word angel make Jack think he was skeptical.

"…No. I'm not an angel. It's a long story."

"I see."

There was a beat of silence, before Jack said, "Can you tell Steve I'm sorry?"

"What?"

"I didn't mean to get so angry," Jack explained. His brow furrowed, "I'm not sure what happened. I just— I didn't mean to."

"Yeah, sure. I'll pass that along."

A voice spoke up, "Sir, I am afraid to say that Agent Barton is requesting your presence. He is currently outside your workshop."

Jack flinched slightly, looking around the room with wide eyes.

"Oh," Tony said, seeing Jack's reaction. "That's JARVIS. He's an AI."

Jack tilted his head to the side. "Like a robot?"

"Yeah, pretty much," Tony said. He directed his attention to the camera in the corner of the room. "Thanks, J. Can you stall him? Tell him I'm getting coffee, or something. Oh, and get me some coffee."

JARVIS acknowledged the instruction, and the room once again fell into silence.

"Did you make JARVIS?" Jack asked tentatively, as if hesitant to initiate small talk.

"I did! He's my robotic baby."

Jack's eyes went wide with awe. "That's so cool!" he said. "How did you do it? How long did it take? How old is he?" His wings puffed up slightly in response to his excitement.

Tony watched Jack babble with a slight smile on his face. Natasha was right, he thought, he really is just a kid.

Tony waited for Jack to finish gushing before he responded.

"I'm glad you like JARVIS. No one seems to appreciate how awesome he is. I'm sure he's flattered."

"Extremely so," JARVIS said, faint traces of humor evident in his tone. "But sir, Agent Barton is being rather insistent. I believe he's beginning to grow suspicious of your whereabouts."

Tony groaned and stood up, prompting Jack's face to fall as he realized that meant Tony was going to leave.

"Don't worry kid, I just need to pacify my teammates. They tend to get antsy when I leave them alone for too long."

Jack nodded, though dismay was still written all over his face.

Tony took a chance and leaned towards Jack, ruffling his hair slightly.

Jack looked up at him, surprised. After a moment he said, "You'll come back, right?"

"Of course. You won't even notice I'm gone."

Tony turned and walked out of the room, asking JARVIS where 'Agent Barton' was. Jack watched him go, sadness evident in his expression. Jack sighed, looking down at his lap.

Getting his grace back and returning to his universe would be difficult, and it would take time, but the people here were kind. So, maybe it wouldn't be so bad. Maybe his time in this world wouldn't be the nightmare he'd thought it would be.

Maybe, just maybe, he'd be able to find a new family here.

* * *

**A/N: ****Wow, Clint being a bit less of a dick? (And who does his resolution at the end remind you of?)**

**Keep safe, stay at home, and wash your hands!**


	8. Confrontation

**AN: Stay at home y'all.**

**Thanks to Andromeda_M31 for beta reading this, and to vrskaandrea for helping me with a section I was stumped on.**

* * *

confrontation  
noun

a hostile or argumentative meeting or situation between opposing parties.

* * *

Tony grimaced as he walked towards where JARVIS had directed him. He really didn't want to talk to Barton. He didn't need to hear the man's bullshit arguments about why they couldn't trust Jack and how they should just hand him over to SHIELD.

That would basically be signing the kid's death warrant.

But, well, if Tony didn't meet with him then Clint would find out Tony had deliberately left the team in the dark while he'd talked with Jack. Tony wanted to be the one to share that information. That way he'd be able to make it seem better than it actually was.

Tony rounded the corner, letting out a sigh when he saw Barton waiting outside his workshop. He'd try to make this as short as possible.

"Clint!" he said with a mock cheerful tone. "Just who I wanted to see! Come right on in, make yourself at home!"

"Shut up, Stark," Barton muttered, scuffing his foot slightly.

Tony almost took a double take. Clint seemed… nervous? Embarrassed? Tony wasn't sure, but it certainly wasn't an emotion he'd expected to see.

Tony turned and walked into his workshop, Clint trailing after him.

"So, what brings you down to my humble abode?" he asked, dropping into his chair.

Clint glanced around uncomfortably, opting to remain standing. "I, uh, just wanted to say," he paused for a moment, gathering the courage to say, "I'm, um, I'm sorry."

Tony's mouth dropped open and there were a few moments of silence as he gaped at Clint. "Wow. Ok. Are you actually Clint? Have you been possessed? Is the little angel on your shoulder pointing a gun at your head?"

A faint scowl formed on Clint's face. "Ok, listen Stark. Can you take this seriously? Please?"

"Oh, yeah, of course. You know me. I'm always serious."

Clint threw his hands up in exasperation. "This is why no one likes you!"

"Yeah, that's common knowledge. Is that all you came here to say?"

"Yes." Clint paused for a moment as his brain caught up with his mouth. "Wait, fuck. No! I'm not done! Fucking hell, will you just let me speak?"

"Yeah. Of course. What do you think I've been doing this whole time?"

Clint clenched his jaw and took a deep breath. "Will you _please _shut up for a moment."

Tony's raised eyebrow conveyed thousands of words.

"Ok, look. I know my attitude has been unreasonable. Hell, I know _I've _been unreasonable. It's just that it — that _he_ — reminds me of, um, Loki and I just—" Clint sighed, running a tired hand through his hair. "What I'm trying to say is, I didn't want this to turn into what it has. I'm sorry."

"Huh. That was touching. Can you keep going?"

Clint just about screamed in frustration. "I'm being serious!"

"Yeah, so am I. I told you, I'm always serious."

Tony could just about see the steam pouring out Clint's ears as he turned and stormed out of the workshop.

"Welp," he said, popping the 'p.' "That went well."

"I hate to disagree with you, sir, but I do believe you could have handled that with a bit more tact."

"Nonsense! I was amazing!"

"If you say so, sir." Skepticism laced every one of JARVIS' words.

"Hey! I didn't code you to doubt me like that. And anyway, I got him to leave, didn't I?"

JARVIS was silent for a moment. "Was that your aim?"

"Yep!"

"Well. You certainly managed that."

"I know! I'm great!" Tony spun around in his chair and jumped to his feet. "And anyway, that was actually quite nice of Clint. I'll," Tony waved his hand vaguely, "apologize to him later. Or something. I only did that because I needed him to leave."

"I am not sure you would have acted any different had you not had that ulterior motive, sir. Annoying people seems to be something you do unconsciously."

"Ouch. You wound me, buddy," Tony said with a grin as he strolled out of his workshop. He checked that the coast was clear before making his was back to Jack's room.

Tony was about to press the button that slid Jack's door open when he heard a throat clearing behind him. He froze with his hand outstretched and slowly wheeled to face whoever stood behind him.

"Oh. Hey Cap!" he said, trying to wipe any traces of surprise of his face. "I was just, uh, I was, um…"

Steve raised an eyebrow. "Hello, Tony. What exactly were you about to do?"

"Uhhh…"

"I thought so."

"Ok. I'm sorry. I'll just… go now."

"No. I think we'll have a nice, long discussion with the team."

A bead of sweat dripped down Tony's forehead. "Oh! Yeah! Sure! That sounds great!"

Steve made a gesture that clearly said, 'after you,' so Tony stepped forward and begun making his way towards the meeting room.

He was in so much shit.

-o-O-o-

Jack glanced up as JARVIS' voice filled the room.

"I am afraid that Mr. Stark's return has been delayed," said the AI.

"Mr. Stark… Is that Tony?"

"Indeed."

"Oh. Do you know when he'll be back?" Jack asked hopefully.

"I do not. I can, however, keep you company until he returns."

Jack's eyes lit up. "Really?"

"It is what Mr. Stark would want."

"Cool!" Jack paused, gathering his thoughts and his knowledge of science and science fiction. "How did Tony make you? Have you always been…" he hesitated, unsure how to phrase his question, "…aware? Like, uh, your personality, have you always had it? Or did it develop on its own? Do you have a body? If you do, how do you control it? Did Tony make it for you? Why do you sound British?"

Jack listened with rapt attention as JARVIS begun to speak. "To answer your first questions requires you to have knowledge of my creation. When Mr. Stark first coded me, I was a simple language-based UI, but from there I was upgraded…"

-o-O-o-

Tony grinned sheepishly at the other Avengers as they looked at his with varying shades of disappointment and annoyance. In Clint's case, it was definitely annoyance.

Tony would go so far as to call it fury.

"Hey guys!" he said.

Silence.

Heavy, disappointed silence.

Well shit, now he felt bad.

"Look, I'm sorry?"

Natasha was the first to break the silence. "You're sorry," she deadpanned.

He was so dead.

"Would it help if I said I won't do it again?"

Natasha took a step forward, prompting Tony to leap back, raising his hands to ward her off. "Hey, hey, hey! Please don't kill me! I swear I had a reason."

Steve let out a patriotic sigh. "And what reason was that, Tony? We're your team. Don't you trust us?"

"Ok, look. I do trust you guys. I really do. I just… I wanted to talk to the kid without anyone breathing down my neck."

Clint's question was surprisingly reasonable. "Did you find anything out?"

"I did! His name is Jack and he's from an alternate universe."

Blank stares.

"…he said there are angels where he's from?"

Silence.

"Ok, look, I know it's not much, but I was interrupted! I was asking questions slowly, so I didn't overwhelm him and make him close off!" Tony defended. "Can you all stop looking at me like that?"

"We still don't know why or how he's here, or even what he is. I think we have a right to 'look at you like that,'" Clint snapped with a faint scowl.

"Ok, that's fair."

Steve sighed again, drawing the other Avengers' attention to him. He shook his head. "I just… I don't know what to say, Tony. You're acting so flippantly but… you betrayed us."

Tony pointed an accusing finger at Steve. "Ok, now you're just being melodramatic. Jesus, stop being so judgmental. I may not have found out all that much, but I did build trust with the kid. If we want to get anything done, he needs to trust us, and _we need to trust him_. He's not getting home if we keep him locked up in that room."

Clint narrowed his eyes. "Are you suggesting we let him out?"

"Y'know what? Yes. Yes, I am. You guys didn't see him, or how he acted. He's… well, he's innocent. If the circumstances of his arrival hadn't already been enough to convince me that he didn't come here with an ulterior motive, that conversation would've been." Tony turned to Steve. "He says sorry, by the way."

"What?"

"He told me to apologize to you on his behalf, for that outburst he had. And… I think Natasha was right. I'm pretty sure he's actually just a kid." Tony ran a hand through his hair, taking a deep breath. "Ok, look. I know you guys are mad at me and that I have no right to ask you this, but will you just trust me on this? Please?"

Steve gave Tony a long, searching look. He shared a glance with the other Avengers before conceding with a sigh. "Fine. Go ahead."

Tony blinked, taken off guard by Steve's unexpected change in attitude. "What? Really?"

"Yes. But you're the one who's gonna deal with the messes he makes. And there have to be a few conditions."

Tony brightened. "Sure! Sounds great! What are they?"

Bruce spoke up. "I don't think letting him out of the tower would be a good idea, especially not so soon after the invasion."

Steve nodded. "For his own safety, as well as insurance that he won't run away. He has to stay in the tower, at least for the time being."

"Ok. I can do that."

"He needs to be under constant surveillance," Natasha said. "JARVIS can do the majority of it, but one of us needs to be close at hand at all times."

Tony rolled his eyes. "Of course. We wouldn't want him going on a murder spree and destroying New York."

"This ties in with the first one, but for his sake as well as our own, we need to keep him hidden from the public. They wouldn't react well," said Steve.

Tony nodded. "Yeah," he adopted a considering expression. "Y'know, we're actually having a pretty reasonable discussion right now. There's no screaming, shouting, or arguing. Hooray for teamwork!"

Despite his attitude, which he was careful to keep flippant, Tony allowed himself to let out an internal cheer. He'd pissed off the other Avengers, yes, but this end result was good. It was a step towards getting his team to accept Jack.

Sure, there were still countless ways everything could go terribly, horribly wrong, but he'd take whatever small victories he could.

* * *

**AN: *Cuts to Jack not understanding anything JARVIS is telling him***

**Ok, now on a more serious note (and this is long so feel free to skip over it):**  
**So, with the virus and all the spare time I have, you'd think I'd be writing more (and at first I was), but now I'm actually finding that my motivation is just puttering out? Like, I'm not losing interest in these two fandoms, and it's not like my attention is being dragged to other fics, I just don't have motivation for ANYTHING. I'm basically spending my days doing nothing and it's making me feel like shit, but I can't find it in myself to force myself to do anything else.**  
**This isn't to say I'm abandoning this. I'm not even gonna put it on hiatus, but updates will be slow and most likely inconsistent. With how I'm feeling right now, I don't want to push myself to write too much because then writing will become a chore and then I might actually abandon this, because, as much as I love you guys and want to share this story with you, I don't ever want to feel like this is something I HAVE to do, or something I don't actually get any enjoyment out of. But yeah, not abandoning or putting it on hiatus. And you guys are already used to my slow-ass updates.**  
**And anyway, who knows. Maybe my motivation will just be like "haha fuck you I'm back" within the next week and all the time I spent writing this AN will have been wasted.**

**Anyway cya next chapter, whenever that will be.**


	9. Exploration

**A/N: all the supportive comments i got last chapter just about made me cry. you guys are so sweet. thank you 33**

**about this chapter, i have to admit that most of it was written post-12am. that's basically the only time i can write becuase if i write at a reasonable time i usually end up deleting everything!**

**ok anyway, enjoy**

* * *

exploration  
_noun_

the action of exploring an unfamiliar area

* * *

"I hate to interrupt our discussion, Mr. Jack, but it appears that Mr. Stark is returning."

Jack grinned and said, "Thanks, JARVIS!" He was lying on his stomach, his uninjured wing flopped over the side of the bed.

"It is my pleasure." If JARVIS were able to smile, he would.

Jack was expecting it this time, so he was unsurprised when the door slid open to reveal Tony.

"Hi!" he said happily.

Tony almost took a double take as he saw how unguarded Jack's posture was. It went to show how much the kid trusted him already. "Hey, kid," he said. "I hear JARVIS kept you company?"

"Yeah. He's really cool!" Jack furrowed his eyebrows. "I'm still not sure what 'cognitive computing' is, though."

A small smile crept over Tony's face. "He's been giving you a crash course in his inner workings, has he?"

Jack blinked, squinting slightly. "I… don't know."

Tony shook his head, the smile still present. "Never mind. I'm glad you like him."

After a moment's pause, Jack asked, "Why did it take so long for you to come back?"

Tony scratched the back of his neck sheepishly. "I got intercepted by one of my teammates. We had a… discussion," he said.

"What did you talk about?"

Tony's eyes slid to the side. "Stuff. Things. Do you want to see the rest of the tower?" he said, carefully avoiding Jack's question.

"Wait," Jack tipped his head to the side like an inquisitive puppy. "Am I in a tower?" he asked.

"Yep! You might also meet some of my teammates. They'll be… around."

Jack tensed slightly. "Does that mean I'll see Steve again?" he asked nervously.

"It's possible. Steve's here. In the tower," Tony said. "But don't worry, he doesn't begrudge you for… that whole ordeal."

"Oh, good," Jack said, letting out a sigh of relief.

"So… do you want to come outside?"

"Yeah!" Jack folded his wing and climbed off the bed but winced and withdrew his feet as they contacted the cold stone floor. "Can I have some shoes?"

Tony blinked. "Oh. Yeah, sure. I think JARVIS has a… one sec." Tony gestured at the door. "Do you mind if I…?"

"Ok," Jack said agreeably.

Tony ducked out of the room, leaving Jack alone again.

He tilted his head. "JARVIS, how many people are there?" he asked.

"Including Mr. Stark, there are five members of the Avengers currently in Stark Tower."

"Does that include Steve as well?"

"Indeed. Of the five there are only three you have yet to meet," JARVIS said.

Jack thanked JARVIS but was unable to continue because of Tony's return. He was holding a bundle of clothing and a pair of shoes.

"I didn't think a hospital gown would be the most suitable clothing," he explained. "The backs of the shirt and jacket are cut so your wings won't shred them." He placed the bundle on the bedside table. "I'll wait outside."

Jack picked up the shirt, examining it curiously. As Tony had said, the back had two vertical slits running from the hem to the mid back, leaving a loose flap of cloth in the centre which would sit between his wings.

Jack changed quickly and was pleased to find that the shirt and jacket did indeed fit. He slipped on the shoes before standing carefully. He quickly splayed out his arms, the unfamiliar weight of his wings unbalancing him. It wasn't helped by the fact that he couldn't spread his right wing to help him balance.

He glanced back at the wings, once again wondering how they'd become physical, and what had happened to his his heavily bandaged right one. If he could answer those questions, maybe it would help him find out how he'd gotten from the void to this world, and how his grace had been taken. His grace's absence still gnawed at him, the void where the power had once resided a constant pang in the back of his mind.

He thought of a story his father had once told him, of the angel Metatron who had stolen his grace. Jack wondered if Castiel had felt the same emptiness he did, at least until he'd managed to find and restore his grace. Jack would do the same. He'd get his grace back from whatever had taken it, just like his father had.

Jack started towards the door with a sigh. A lot needed to be done before that. Upon reaching the door he hesitated, unsure how to open it. It was a pleasant surprise when the door slid open automatically for him. He stepped outside, shielding his eyes as they were assaulted by the sunlight that filtered through the hallway. He hadn't seen, or didn't remember seeing, the sun since before he'd been catapulted into the void.

"Hey, kid," Tony said.

Jack turned and saw Tony waiting for him a small way down the corridor. He walked over to him, still using his arms to help himself balance.

Tony noticed the subtle actions with a small frown. "Is the dressing unbalancing your wings?" he asked, concerned.

Jack looked up, "Oh, no. I'm ok. I'm just getting used to them, that's all."

Tony's brows furrowed. "Is having wings something that's new to you?"

"Physical wings, yes," Jack said, blissfully unaware of the confusion he was causing.

Tony blinked rapidly. "Yeah, ok. That makes sense," he said. It didn't make sense.

"So… where are we going?"

"Oh, yeah. That. I'll show you the penthouse first." Tony watched, worried, as Jack continued to subtly use his arms to maintain his balance. "Are you sure it's ok?"

"Yes. I'm ok," Jack repeated.

Tony nodded, thought the concern didn't completely leave his face. He started down the corridor, leading Jack through the tower and towards the penthouse.

Jack looked around the hallways curiously. All the twists and turns made it seem like a maze. He wouldn't be surprised if, at some point, he found himself lost in the tower's winding corridors.

Tony halted just before he entered the room before him. Jack was about to ask what was wrong when Tony resignedly said, "Hi, Clint."

Jack peered curiously around the corner, his eyes widening at the sight of the tower's luxurious penthouse and the sprawling view of the New York skyline. The room looked new, the walls and surfaces shining in a way that only unused things did. A man sat at one of the tables, a mug of coffee sitting before him. He was examining Jack with a faint scowl.

Jack shrank back slightly at the unfriendly expression, his feathers ruffling in agitation.

"So," Clint said. "You're Jack."

Jack glanced hesitantly at Tony, who seemed apprehensive but gave him an encouraging nod.

Jack raised his hand and waved at Clint. "Hello," he said.

Clint scoffed quietly and took a swig of coffee. He slammed the mug back down on the table, hard. Jack, already on edge because of Clint's hostility, jumped slightly at the bang the action caused.

Tony stepped forward. "Clint, wait—"

Clint stood up forcefully, sending the chair skidding across the stone floor. He pointed an accusing finger at Tony. "You made it perfectly clear how you felt when I tried to apologize," he snarled before turning heel and stalking out of the room, tension written in every line of his body.

Jack looked at Tony uncertainly, wringing his hands nervously. "Did I—"

"No, no," Tony cut in. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "It's not you," he told Jack. "I made a mistake. I guess I'm paying for it now."

Jack nodded, though he was still disheartened from the encounter. The magnificent view of the New York skyline wasn't nearly as exciting as it had been when he'd first entered the room.

"Do your other teammates feel the same way about me?" Jack asked quietly.

Tony turned fully to him, kneeling slightly to Jack's eye level. "Oh, kid. Of course they don't. Clint's just… he's going through a lot and, well, I haven't been helping," he said. "It's not you. I swear, it's not you."

A sheen of tears was visible over Jack's eyes as he looked at Tony. Tony, JARVIS, and even Steve had been kind to Jack so far, and he'd begun to think that, though it would be a long time before he saw the Winchesters again, maybe it wouldn't be so bad. But Clint's actions had brought that unrealistic fantasy crashing down, and with it all of Jack's fears and uncertainties. "I— I just… I don't know what's happening, or— or even where I am, where this world is," he said, hiccuping slightly. "And— and you're being so nice to me, but I still don't know—"

He cut himself off as Tony stepped forward and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. Jack turned his head, unable to look at him. "Hey," Tony said. Jack's eyes hesitantly slid back to his face "I made you a promise, didn't I? I'm gonna get you home."

Jack nodded, his shoulders shaking slightly as he fought to hold back his tears. "I— Thank you," he said, bringing up a hand to rub at his eyes. After a few more seconds ticked by he had calmed himself enough to say, "I think I'm ok now. I think we can keep going."

After a moment Tony took a step back, assured that Jack was, indeed, ok.

Silence hung in the air for a moment, before Tony stepped towards one of the doorways — not the one they had entered from but also not the one Clint had left through — and said, "Well, we can go this way?"

Jack nodded and stepped after Tony.

-o-O-o-

It hadn't taken too long for the rest of Jack's fear to fade, chased away by the awe he felt as he was shown the many luxuries of Stark Tower, so unlike anything he had seen before.

Tony had led Jack around the rest of the tower, pointing out the various rooms and explaining the purpose of each of them. Some sections of the tower were blocked off. Tony had explained that they were areas that were being renovated on, as the tower was changed from Stark Tower to the Avengers Tower. As they walked, Tony had told Jack about his teammates and friends, the people Jack would inevitably meet while he was at Stark Tower.

Jack had, at one point, asked why Tony wasn't taking him to any of the tower's lower floors, but Tony had sidled around the question, instead explaining the uses of the room they were in. It had been the leisure room, and Jack's attention had quickly been stolen by the games and books that lined three of the walls and the huge, plasma TV that dominated the fourth. The room was full of couches, blankets, and bean bags, and overall had a cozy feel it it.

In a strange way, it had reminded Jack of the bunker's library.

That room, and Tony's workshop, had been Jack's favourites.

They were currently meandering down a hallway, Tony showing Jack the last few areas of the tower.

"There's one more room I want to show you," Tony said as they came to a halt outside the room Jack had been staying in, completing the loop around the tower's top floors.

Jack cocked his head to the side, "I thought we went everywhere?"

Tony smiled. "Not quite. JARVIS has just been adding some finishing touches." He raised his voice slightly and said, "It should be done by now?"

"It is, sir," JARVIS said.

Tony nodded in satisfaction and turned heel, starting towards the elevator. Jack trailed after him, confusion warring with curiosity. The elevator took them to the fourth highest floor — Tony's floor.

Jack glanced at Tony, questions visible in his expression, but the man only smiled in return.

"It's a surprise," he said.

They made their way to a hallway that Tony had explained held spare bedrooms for when his friends visited. They came to a halt outside one of the doors lining the corridor, and Jack's eyes widened as he realised what the surprise was.

Tony opened one of the doors, revealing the room behind it.

The walls were light blue, with a smattering of paintings decorating them. There was a queen-sized bed with a soft grey comforter in the middle of the room, a bathroom to his left, and a dresser with a small plant on it.

But what really caught Jack's attention were the floor-to-ceiling windows that dominated the far wall and led out to a balcony with a small table and a stool. The windows displayed the beautiful New York skyline, silhouetted by the setting sun. This time, Clint wasn't there to dampen Jack's mood, so he was able to fully appreciate the stunning view.

"Ta-daa!" Tony waved his hands in the air.

"Is this room… mine?" Jack asked.

"Yeah! I figured this would be better than that other one," Tony said. "It's bland, I know. But I didn't want to spice it up too much — I wasn't sure what you'd like."

"'Spice it up…?'" Jack repeated. He looked confused.

"It means like, add your personal touch. Now you can decorate it yourself! You can Jackify it!" Tony explained. Jack simply nodded, too distracted by his admiration of the room to fully respond.

Tony paused for a moment before asking, "Do you like it?"

Jack finally looked over at Tony, a smile blooming on his face. "I do. I love it. Thank you," he said. His wings were fluffed up in happiness.

Jack stepped into the room. It was so unlike his room in the bunker, which was small and dim and austere. This room was large and spacious, but not so much that it felt empty. The light that filtered through the windows lit the room with the warm tones of sunset and contributed to the cozy vibe the room gave. Jack truly did love it.

He turned to Tony with a grin, "Thank you," he said again.

"No problem, kid," Tony said. "It's the least I could do."

Jack walked towards the far wall, searching the windows for a way to open them and give him access to the balcony.

"Tony?" he said, turning towards said billionaire, who was standing by the now-open dresser. Jack tilted his head curiously, deciding to forestall his question in favour of seeing what Tony was searching for.

Tony glanced up, shutting the draw as he did so. "Yeah?" he asked. He was holding what looked like a laptop.

"How do you…" Jack pointed at the balcony.

"Oh." Tony put the device he was holding down on the bed and walked over to Jack. Jack peered at it and was able to make out the word 'StarkPad' on its back.

Tony glanced at Jack's wings. "I hope you're not afraid of heights," he joked as he fiddled with a panel on the wall.

Jack furrowed his brow. "I haven't been very high up before," he said. As he spoke, something nagged at the back of his head — fragments of a memory he couldn't quite recall.

_That's not true, _it whispered. _You fell. You fell from such a height, and when you landed you were broken. _

Jack's breath hitched as a phantom pain tore through his right wing and a sickening snap echoed through his ears. He shut his eyes tightly, bringing his hands up to clutch his temples. He shook his head in an attempt to dispel the memory.

"—ack? Jack!"

Jack looked up sharply, broken from his trance by Tony calling his name.

"You ok, kid?" Tony asked.

"I… don't know," Jack admitted truthfully. "It was a memory, I think."

Tony's brow furrowed. "A memory?" he asked carefully. "Of what?"

"I don't know," Jack repeated, because he truly didn't. Had it been his arrival here, in this world? What had the pain he'd felt been? Once again, he found himself wondering what had happened to his wing.

"How did I…" Jack hesitated, before restarting his question. "Why is my right wing so heavily bandaged?"

Tony glanced at the mentioned wing. "Well, we didn't think an orthopod would be able to operate on a wing, so we got a vet to pin it. She said it would heal within a few months."

"But… what happened to it?"

"It was broken," Tony said. "When you crashed into the tower."

Jack's eyes widened, his face turning ashen. "It was broken?" he said fearfully. "My wing… it's broken?"

"Yes, but it'll heal. It'll be ok in just a few months," Tony was quick to reassure.

"No, no, no," Jack whispered, his breathing picking up. "My wing can't be— my grace, it's… it can't…"

"Hey, Jack. Look at me." Jack turned his panic-stricken eyes to Tony. "Breathe, Jack. Breathe. You need to tell me what's going on."

Jack took a deep breath, calming himself slightly. "If my wing is broken," he said, his voice shaking, "it means my grace isn't being contained somewhere else. It means I won't be able to find it and get it back," saying it out loud made it all the more real, and Jack had to pause before admitting defeatedly, "it means my grace is just… gone."

* * *

**A/N: ok so my motivation's still a bit wack but i'm trying and it's sorta working. guess we'll see when the next chapter occurs.**

**also my ability to keep people in character is slipping away faster than my sanity :)))**

**thanks to Andromeda_M31 for betaing!**


	10. Precipitate

**AN: hey guys, sorry for the wait. i'm not dead i swear**

**Hecca beta'd this**

**also there's cover art now! if you want to see it properly, it's on ao3 under the same title and penname.**

* * *

precipitate  
_verb_

cause (an event or situation, typically one that is bad or undesirable) to happen suddenly, unexpectedly, or prematurely.

* * *

A golden-eyed watcher stood on the edge of a broken bridge, staring into the void it overlooked. His gaze flicked from planet to planet, realm to realm, as he watched over the universe and its trillions of inhabitants. He turned towards the golden palace behind him and smiled slightly when he saw the approach of a golden-haired prince.

"My Prince," he greeted as Thor landed by him.

"Heimdall," Thor said, stowing Mjolnir away.

"I presume you are here to inquire after Midgard?"

Thor nodded and asked, "How fares Jane?"

There was a pause as Heimdall directed his gaze towards Midgard. "Jane Foster is well," he said.

"And my fellow Avengers?"

This time, after a longer silence stretched between them, Heimdall straightened, his brow furrowing in concern. "I do not know," he said. "Something is cloaking the tower of your Midgardian friends from my gaze."

Thor's eyes widened. "Few things can block your vision. Do you know what it is?"

"I do not," Heimdall said.

He said nothing for a few moments, focusing on the blank in his sight. "It is difficult to even recognize the fact that I cannot see it."

Thor narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "Is this one of Loki's schemes?"

Heimdall cast his gaze towards Asgard's golden palace, at Loki who was in a holding cell awaiting his trial. He shook his head. "No, I do not believe so. I can—" he paused, concentrating on the castle. After a beat of silence, he said, disbelief in his tone, "I cannot see the Tesseract."

Heimdall abruptly turned from his vigil and lifted Hofund from its stand. "I must look into this," he told Thor. "I fear there may be more at play here than we know."

Thor followed Heimdall as he strode down the Bifrost. "Heimdall, wait. What is it that you speak of?" he asked worriedly.

"My Prince," Heimdall said, stopping and rounding on Thor. His eyes conveyed the worry his body language was concealing. "My vision originates from the power of the Infinity Stones. I can see everything created by the stones. For me to not see the Tesseract— for me to not recognize that I can't see it…" He shook his head, turning back and continuing towards the palace. "I must find the source of this."

-o-O-o-

Jack took a deep breath, calming himself slightly. "If my wing is broken," he said, his voice shaking, "it means my grace isn't being contained somewhere else. It means I won't be able to find it and get it back," saying it out loud made it all the more real, and Jack had to pause before admitting defeatedly, "it means my grace is just… gone."

Jack's wings trembled, the injured — the broken — one especially so. He took a shaky step back, carefully avoiding meeting Tony's gaze. Tony had promised that Jack would get back to his world, to his home. He'd promised that everything would be ok. But that was impossible now. That was impossible because Jack's wing was broken. Because Jack was broken.

An oppressive silence coated the room. Jack could feel his heart pounding, bashing against his chest. The thumping of his heart was echoing in his ears, hurting his head. The ceiling lights felt too bright, almost as though they were burning his eyes. He clenched his eyes shut. He couldn't stay. He had to leave. He had to away from the room, away from everything. Jack hesitated for a moment longer, before he turned towards the door and, ignoring Tony's shout of "Kid, wait!", pulled it open and fled the room.

Jack paid little mind to where he was going, allowing himself to stumble wherever his feet took him. His thoughts were spinning through his head, crashing against the walls of his skull, a constant reminder of the revelation he'd just made.

His grace was lost, scattered across this universe. That part of himself, his only hope of getting back to his world, to the Winchesters, was gone. Tony had promised to help him, but now there was nothing to help. Jack raised a shaking hand to wipe away tears he didn't know had fallen. He felt his grace's absence more keenly than ever, the painful emptiness amplified tenfold by the knowledge that it would never again be filled.

Jack dimly noted that he was standing before a window. He looked up at it with blurry eyes, watching his reflection which stared back, familiar but for the two foreign shadows lurking behind it. Jack stretched out his left wing, watching as the reflection's did the same. His wings' physicality now felt unnatural rather than novel, no longer a puzzle to solve but an unfixable problem.

Jack grit his teeth and tore his gaze away from the image. He brought his hand back up to his face and scrubbed furiously at his eyes. He could scream. He could cry. He could tear the feathers from his wings and grind them to dust. It wouldn't help. It couldn't help.

The idea that he'd had any control over this situation had been an illusion, one that had been brutally ripped away. Now Jack had to decide what he was going to do with the pieces that were left behind.

Jack swallowed past the lump that had formed in his throat. He blinked past the stinging in his eyes. He pushed away the ache in his chest. He would be ok. He had to be ok.

JARVIS would help him. Tony would help him.

'Tony...' Jack thought, a pang of guilt stabbing through his chest. When he'd fled his room, he'd been too overwhelmed to do anything but run. He hadn't even registered Tony's call to stop and had left him behind without explaining anything.

Jack resolved to apologize to Tony when he saw him next.

Jack was drawn out of his thoughts by the sound of slow, heavy footsteps. His head snapped up, his wings flexing uneasily. Anyone could be coming. Jack didn't know who they were or how they'd react to seeing him.

Jack considered running again, escaping before the approaching person saw him. He was preparing to flee when they turned the corner.

It was Steve, the man who had confronted Jack when he'd first woken up.

Steve stopped short when he saw Jack. An expression of confusion flickered over his face, then was quickly replaced by one suspicion. Jack shied away from Steve, staring at him apprehensively.

Steve frowned. "Where's Tony?" he asked, his voice flat.

Jack answered, voice quivering, "I don't know. He was showing me around the tower."

Steve raised an eyebrow. "So, what are you doing here?"

Jack's throat tightened. He swallowed and, very unconvincingly, said, "I got lost."

Steve rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Look, Jack," he said. "It is Jack, right?"

Jack nodded.

"Ok. When you're around the tower, you're gonna need to stick with one of us. Got it?"

Jack ducked his head. "Yes. Sorry," he said quietly.

Steve nodded curtly. "Good," he said, turning down the corridor. "Follow me."

Jack, upon realizing that he wasn't getting punished, let out a breath of relief. He trailed after Steve, thankful that the man knew his way around the tower.

"Where are we?" Jack asked, breaking the silence that had settled over them.

Steve glanced at him questioningly. "New York," he said.

Jack blinked. "What? No, I mean, where in the tower?"

"Oh," Steve said, the confusion clearing from his expression. "We're near the leisure room. It's just down there." He pointed down a hallway they were passing.

Jack's eyes widened, and he looked around again. "Oh, I see," he said. "I recognize this area now."

Steve laughed. "The tower is quite the maze, isn't it?"

Jack nodded. "I wasn't even sure what floor I was on," he confessed with a bashful grin.

"I still struggle sometimes," Steve admitted with a smile. "It isn't like anything I'm used to. This whole time is still so crazy…" he trailed off, shaking his head.

Jack wondered what Steve meant about the time. He considered asking what was so strange about 7:44, which was what a nearby clock read, but decided against it. That probably wasn't what Steve had meant, anyway.

"Well, I think we're nearly at the penthouse," Steve said. His sense of direction had, apparently, been correct, for when they rounded the next corner the stairwell came into view.

"Thank you," Jack said as they entered the room.

Steve acknowledged the thanks with a nod. He said, "Dinner should be soon. Tony will have ordered something."

Jack perked up at the mention of food. He wasn't sure when he'd last eaten, but he was hungry. "Do you have nougat?" he asked.

"Well, Tony probably has some somewhere," Steve said. He shot Jack a quizzical glance. "Why?"

"I like nougat," Jack said with a grin.

As he finished speaking, the paneled wall slid open with a ding. Jack looked to the right to see Tony standing in the elevator. He met Tony's eyes, and his guilt came flooding back. His gaze skittered away, and he swallowed nervously.

He wouldn't let himself run away this time.

-o-O-o-

Upon Jack's revelation, Tony's mind had instantly jumped into overdrive. Fixing problems was what he did for a living, and he'd be damned if he didn't help fix this one.

He had not, of course, expected the kid to bolt.

His shout for Jack to stop had been ineffective, and he'd been left standing alone in the room. He had run to the door, but Jack was already out of sight.

Tony had been about to ask JARVIS to help him track Jack down when he paused. He had no insight into what was happening. He had no idea what grace was, and, even if he got Jack to explain what it was, he knew that he wouldn't be able to fix the problem anytime soon.

If Tony were feeling what he assumed Jack was feeling, he'd want time to be alone and come to terms with his situation. As much as he hated to admit it, right now his presence would likely be a hindrance rather than a help.

So, Tony had, after instructing JARVIS to monitor, but not interact with, Jack and report back to him if anything went really wrong, decided to sit this one out.

Tony had picked the StarkPad, which he'd intended to gift Jack, off the bed, and put it back onto the dresser with a sigh. He would give it to the kid later. He stepped out of the room and started towards his workshop, resolving to find something to tinker with until he was needed.

—o—

Tony glanced up from the boots he was working on when JARVIS' voice echoed throughout his workshop. "Sir, Mr. Jack has encountered Captain Rogers," the AI said.

Tony's eyes widened. "Shit," he said, standing and making his way towards the doorway. "Are they ok? How pissed off is Steve?"

"Captain Rogers is leading Mr. Jack towards the penthouse. They are acting cordially."

Tony let out a breath. "Well. That's certainly something." He stepped into the elevator which, courtesy of JARVIS, instantly begun rising towards the penthouse.

Tony was worried about what he would find. Steve was fair, sure. Hell, he was the poster boy for fairness. But he had set the conditions of Jack's freedom, and Tony had broken them.

The doors dinged open, and Tony was quick to survey the room. He could feel the worry melting off his face when he saw that everything seemed to be in order. As he stepped out of the elevator he moved towards Jack because, sue him, he was worried about the kid. He stopped in surprise when Jack's face fell, and he seemed to shrink in on himself.

"Tony," Steve said, drawing Tony's attention away from Jack. "I was just helping Jack find his way through the tower. I found him wandering the halls. Alone."

Tony winced internally. This wasn't a conversation he wanted to have in front of Jack. Turning to the kid, who, he noted worriedly, was still avoiding his gaze, he said, "Hey, Jack. Why don't you go to the dining room? Steve and I just need to clear some stuff up."

If it were possible, Jack withdrew even further. He nodded dejectedly, which just served to make Tony feel guiltier.

"Hey, kid," he said gently, stepping towards Jack. Jack looked up at him hesitantly. "I'll come in right after you. There's food in there if you're hungry." He gestured to one of the stairways. "It's just down there. If you need me, I'll be right here. I promise."

This time, when Jack nodded, it was a happier gesture. He turned towards the staircase and, with one last glance back at Tony, left the penthouse.

Tony turned to Steve, who was studying him with a pensive look. After a few beats of silence, Steve finally said, "He's a good kid."

Tony blinked. "Huh. Gotta say, Cap, I didn't expect that."

"I'm sure you didn't," Steve said, his expression shifting into one of exasperation. "Because you broke the terms we agreed to. That the team agreed to. Jack said he got lost, but it obviously wasn't true. What actually happened?"

"He ran," Tony said. Steve raised an eyebrow, but Tony raised his hand to ward off any questions. "Turns out he doesn't realize what had happened to his wing. I guess he just thought it was injured, cause when he found out it was broken, well, remember how he mentioned his 'grace?'"

Steve nodded.

"Yeah. Apparently, that's why his grace is gone. I still don't know exactly what it is."

"Why didn't you go after him?"

"He was badly shaken. I doubt I would've helped. Trust me."

Steve shook his head. "You know, Tony? I'm finding that harder and harder to do. We agreed — you agreed — that Jack wouldn't go unsupervised, and look what you did the moment we went away."

"Steve. Buddy. You're killing me. I'm fine." He poked Steve's shoulder. Steve glared at him. "See? You're fine too, back to your normal, prissy self and all. Everything's okay! No need for all this worry and melodrama."

"That's not the point, Tony!" Steve snapped, his frustration bleeding into his tone. "Your strategy of 'cutting the wire' only works once. After that, you lose your team's trust. And you're already well on your way to losing mine."

"Boo-hoo," Tony said. "Are we done?"

Tony would freely admit — to himself — that his constant audacity wasn't strictly necessary but, well, he did have a reputation, and it wasn't going to maintain itself.

Steve narrowed his eyes. "Yes," he said stiffly. "We're done."

"Great!" Tony turned towards the dining room. "You wanna join us for dinner?"

Steve nodded curtly and followed Tony as he left the penthouse.

"Hey, JARVIS, can you tell the others that food's here?"

"Certainly, sir."

The dining room was smaller than many of the tower's other communal rooms. A banquet table, which could seat 8 people, stretched the length of the room and was piled high with the variety of food that had been ordered earlier the evening. Jack sat at the end of the table, a plate of food set before him. His chair was turned sideways, so the backrest didn't impede his wings.

Jack was staring at Tony. He swallowed his mouthful of food and, rather unexpectedly, said, "I'm sorry."

Tony's brows furrowed. "What for?"

"Running away. I didn't mean to. A lot was happening. I thought that maybe if I didn't have my grace then you wouldn't…" He ducked his head. "Without it I don't know how I'm going to get back to my world. But I know that running was wrong and I—"

"Hey, kid," Tony interrupted Jack's rushed apology. "It's ok. I don't— I didn't blame you for a second."

Jack blinked. "But I ran away," he said, a perplexed frown on his face.

"That's fine. You needed space. I get that," Tony said. "What did you think I was going to do?"

Jack's eyes flitted away nervously. "Well, before now, the people looking after me… it, uh, it changed, it's not like this anymore, but at first, if I didn't have my grace, I don't think they would've let me stay." He hesitated a moment longer, before admitting, "They wanted something. They… well, one of them, Dean, only wanted me because of what I could do. I just thought that maybe you also—"

"Ok, I'm gonna have to stop you there," Tony said. "Whether or not you have your grace or whatever, I am never going to kick you out of this tower. I swear, Jack, you're not here because I think you can do something for me."

Jack smiled hesitantly up at Tony. "Thank you," he said. "I think I needed to hear that."

Steve cleared his throat, and Tony glanced over at him. He grimaced internally, realizing he had almost forgotten about the other man's presence. The Captain nodded towards one of the room's doorways, alerting him to Bruce, Natasha, and Clint, who were just entering the room.

Jack turned to them and, in what seemed to be his instinctive gesture of greeting, raised his hand and said, "Hello."

Clint grunted noncommittally, but otherwise ignored Jack's greeting. Natasha narrowed her eyes and stared at him analytically. Bruce smiled slightly and brought a hand up to wave back at Jack.

"Hi," Bruce said.

Tony clapped his hands and said, "You're all finally here. Now we can eat!"

Jack glanced down at his half-eaten plate of food. "Oh," he said. "Was I not meant to start?"

"Nah, it's fine," Tony reassured, making a plate of his own and sitting by Jack. "Y'know, we don't do team dinners all that often. We should do them more. Team bonding and all that."

"We don't do them because you're usually holed up in your workshop, Tony," Bruce said.

Tony grinned unabashedly. "True."

"So, Jack," Natasha said, taking a seat opposite Jack. Jack smiled at her, unaware and unquestioning of her intentions. "You're from an alternate universe. What's different about your world?"

"Um," Jack said, raking his brain for a significant event he knew of. "Well, there was the apocalypse in 2008. Did this world have that?"

"Well, I think you'd be able to tell if it had," Tony said slowly, very concerned. "Did yours?"

Jack turned to Tony. "Yeah," he said, blissfully ignorant of Tony's, and the other Avengers' mounting concern. "It happened before I was born. My father helped stop it. He died, too," Tony's eyes widened, and he opened his mouth to offer his condolences, but was stopped when Jack continued with, "But then he un-died."

The table was silent as the Avengers processed that information. Tony, deciding that he really didn't want to address the whole back-from-the-dead thing, said, "If this 'apocalypse' happened four years ago, in 2008, and you weren't born yet…"

"Oh, no, I was born in 2017," Jack said.

Tony's eyes widened. "Wait, so your world's ahead of ours? It must be, what, 2040 there?"

"What? No, it's not," Jack said. "It's 2017."

There was a long silence. Jack took a bite of pizza.

Tony's heart felt like it was frozen in his chest. He almost felt the need to check to see if his arc reactor was working. They had believed Jack to be young, but this was on a whole other level. It didn't make sense. It couldn't be true. But what reason would Jack have to lie?

"What," said Tony, his eyes wide. The other Avengers remained silent, too shocked to say anything.

Jack swallowed. "What?"

"How old are you, Jack?" Steve asked hesitantly, as though afraid of the answer.

"I, uh, six months? I was born in May."

Tony began laughing, borderline hysterically. "You're joking, right?" he asked. "This is a joke. This has to be a joke."

Jack squinted at him, tipping his head to the side in confusion. "No?" he said. He looked around the table, taking in the other Avengers' expressions. His wings rustled uneasily. "Is something wrong?"

"Yeah," Tony said. "Yeah, you're— you're six months old. That doesn't even make sense. How are we speaking to you? How are you not an infant?"

"My mother… she told me it was too dangerous for me. I couldn't be a baby, or a toddler, or a child. There were people who would've come for me, who did come for me, and I needed to be able to defend myself."

"But how?" Tony asked.

"Oh," Jack said. "I don't really know. It wasn't something I decided to do. It just… happened."

Clint scoffed and said, "You're kidding, right? You don't actually believe this? He," he waved his hand at Jack, "isn't six months old. That's… he can't be a fucking baby."

Tony gasped dramatically. "No swearing around the children!" he scolded.

"Screw you, Stark," Clint snapped, pushing his plate away. "He's not your kid. He's not a kid. This is ridiculous."

Natasha put her hand on Clint's shoulder. "Clint, stop," she said firmly. "You need to calm down."

Clint scowled but stood down nonetheless.

Jack had, by this point, shrunk back into his chair. He hadn't thought the Avengers would react so strongly to his age, and he didn't like the way Tony was arguing with Clint.

Bruce, noticing Jack's discomfort, shot Jack a comforting smile, and quietly said, "Don't worry. They get like this sometimes, but they're fine."

Jack shook his head. He stood up, and said, "But it's happening because I'm here. Maybe I should go."

"I think that's a good idea," said Steve gently. "There are some things we need to discuss, and I'm not so sure you'd want to be around to hear them."

Jack nodded his acceptance and made his way to the door, leaving his plate sitting on the table. He glanced back, ready to wish the Avengers a good night, but stopped when he saw that they had already begun speaking.

He pulled open the door and left, leaving them to their discussion.

-o-O-o-

JARVIS helped lead Jack through the tower and back to his room. Jack remained quiet as he walked, picking worriedly at his hand. He didn't know why Tony had reacted the way he had, and he hoped it wouldn't change anything.

Jack thanked JARVIS as he stepped into his room. He made his way to the balcony, hoping that fresh air would help him clear his mind. He peered at the panel Tony had fiddled with earlier when he'd asked how to open the glass door. He was unsure of how to use it.

Jack looked up from the panel when JARVIS said, "I presume you wish to go outside?"

He nodded. "I'm not sure how to open the door."

"I am able to do it for you." As JARVIS spoke, a pane of the glass slid away, creating a doorway.

"Thank you," Jack said as he stepped onto the balcony. He took a deep, calming breath. The railing sat in a way that effectively shielded him from the view of the rest of the city, meaning there was no worry of him being seen.

Jack pulled the stool out from under the table and took a seat, stretching his unbandaged wing out behind him. He rested his arms on the table and lay his head down on them, closing his eyes with a sigh.

"When you are ready to return inside, merely press the button on the right wall," JARVIS said as the glass door slid closed.

Jack was unsure how much time had passed when he felt a foreign energy seeping into the air around him. He shivered, looking up from the table and peering into his room. "JARVIS?" he asked.

No response.

Jack stood from the stool and made his way into the room, realizing that the outside of the tower must not have speakers.

Once he was off the balcony, he said, "JARVIS, are you there?"

The room was silent.

Jack's heart sped up slightly, its nervous fluttering mirrored by his wings. The energy was getting stronger, gathering its power in his room.

"JARVIS, what are—"

Jack cut himself off as the swirling energy converged at his feet. He glanced down sharply and felt a spike of panic when he saw orange sparks springing from the carpet.

Jack cried out for help as he ran for the door but was cut off by the started yelp that escaped his lips. An orange portal had opened beneath his feet, and there was nothing Jack could do as he was sent plummeting into its depths.

* * *

**AN: hehe guess who**


	11. Revelation

**A/N: Who's ready for people standing around talking? My specialty!**

**Also, guess which movie doesn't actually specify how a certain sorcerer knew about the presence and location of a certain Asgardian prince!**

**This chapter is me attempting to put the explanations that've been bumping around my head since chapter one into words that are coherent to anyone other than me. I hope I achieved that, but if you're confused on anything then please, please ask me to clarify in the comments. (also warning for semi-headcanons ahead)**

**Beta'd by Hecca.**

* * *

revelation  
_noun_

a surprising and previously unknown fact that has been disclosed to others.  
the making known of something that was previously secret or unknown.  
used to emphasize the remarkable quality of someone or something.

* * *

While falling, Jack had a split-second to wonder if it had all been a dream. If he was still trapped, falling endlessly through the void. If the Avengers had just been figments of his broken mind, created to bring him away from his horrific actuality.

But reality snapped back into place with dizzying force when he was spat out of the other end of the portal.

There wasn't enough time for Jack to brace himself, let alone slow his fall with his wings, so when he landed it was a gut-wrenching thud that knocked the air from his lungs and left him stunned. He was lucky the landing didn't further injure his broken wing.

After a few moments of dazed silence, Jack had recovered enough to not just be a useless lump of Nephilim. He stood quickly — too quickly, he realised, as his head spun, and he was forced to lean against the wall with a groan.

"Unexpectedly travelling through portals can have that effect," said a calm, level voice. The words were lined with the faintest traces of amusement.

Jack twisted, his wings flaring with surprise. A bald woman stood at the opposite end of the archaic room he had found himself in. She wore a yellow robe and a knowing expression.

Jack backed away from her, keeping an arm on the wall for support. He glanced warily around the room. They were alone. He returned his attention to the woman and, after a moment of silence, cautiously asked, "Who are you?"

"I am the Ancient One," she said. "I keep track of the extradimensional. And you, Jack, certainly fall into that category."

Jack swallowed nervously. How did she know his name? How did she know any of that? Why had she brought him here? How had she brought him here? More and more questions flitted through his mind, almost overwhelming him. He took a breath, and started by asking, "How am I here?"

The Ancient One held up one of her hands which wore a golden ring on two of its fingers, "I used this," she said simply. "A sling ring." She held the ringed hand forward and made a circular motion with the other. Jack watched, fascinated, as an orange portal — identical to the one he had fallen through — opened before her.

It looked alike to the rifts Jack had previously opened to different worlds. Maybe the two were similar. Jack looked up at the Ancient One and asked, "Can they go anywhere?"

She closed the portal with a sigh. "If you're asking whether I can create one that leads your world, then I'm afraid the answer is no. That is beyond a sling ring's capabilities."

Jack deflated slightly, glancing away despondently.

The Ancient One took a step towards Jack, who quickly stepped back. "I do want to help you, though," she said.

Jack watched her uncertainly, unsure whether she could be trusted. "How?" he asked. "Why?"

"I was about to get onto that."

Jack stumbled slightly as the world rippled around him. The sparsely decorated walls of the room they'd been standing in were replaced quite abruptly with those of a library. The few lamps littered throughout the room lit it with warm, flickering hues and created deep shadows in the room's crannies. Bookshelves laden with dusty tomes lined each wall, and, standing between Jack and the Ancient One, was a large wooden table.

The Ancient One gestured towards one of the low-backed chairs sitting at the table, and Jack took it as an invitation to take a seat, though he remained somewhat tense, still not totally assured of the sorceress's good intentions. The chair, at least, had backrest low enough that Jack didn't have to angle his wings upwards to be able to sit properly, a fact which he was thankful for.

"I've found your case to be strange," the Ancient One said, sitting down opposite Jack. "You see, this universe exists within a multiverse of others. I keep watch over them and ward off threats that arise. In my time, I've defeated my fair share of creatures who entered our world."

Jack's eyes widened. He opened his mouth, about to assure her of his harmlessness, but she continued speaking before he could.

"Don't worry," she said. "I know that not everything means harm. I've also returned many lost beings to their own worlds."

Jack brightened slightly, thinking that the Ancient One would be able to get him back home. His hopes were dashed when she continued, saying, "When you first arrived here, I assumed you to be the same. That I'd be able to send you back as I had all the others. But after looking into it, I found that's not the case. Your universe is one that exists beyond the fringes of this multiverse, a place whose existence has only ever been theorised about. You, Jack, are an enigma."

Jack's eyes flickered up to the Ancient One. "How do you know all this?" he asked. "Is there any way you can get me back to my world?"

"This sanctum—" she gestured around the room they were in— "in addition to being a pillar of protection for the Earth, houses a remarkable collection of artefacts and enchantments. We have an intricate system that alerts us of all extradimensional activity. Your arrival set off an alarm of an energy that I have never seen before.

"The life force of everything living in this world, in this multiverse, is sustained by singularities known as the Infinity Stones," the Ancient One said. "But you're not. You're different. To get you back to your world will be difficult because of the sheer difference between the basic make-up of this universe and yours."

Jack's wings rustled uneasily. "But is it possible?"

The Ancient One sighed. "Yes and no," she said. "It would be possible, but it would take an immense amount of power, only some of which I have access to."

"What do you mean?"

The Ancient One lifted a hand and two spherical, bubble-like manifestations appeared, one red, one green, hovering over the table between them. Jack's eyes widened with awe and he leaned over the table and reached out to touch them. He was mildly disappointed when his hand merely phased through the illusions. But Jack, rather than allow the setback to faze him, squinted and leaned further forward, determined to interact with the manifestations. He lifted his other hand off the table in the hopes that it would somehow help, but instead, it made him overbalance, fall forward, and faceplant into the wood.

"Ouch," Jack said, rubbing his nose. He lay there for a moment before he remembered he wasn't alone and pushed himself up, his face flushing red with embarrassment. He quickly folded his unbroken wing, which had instinctively snapped open when he fell, then sat back onto his chair with a sheepish, "Sorry."

The Ancient One smiled, amusement twinkling in her eyes. "It's ok," she said, before gesturing at her conjurations to draw Jack's attention back to them.

"Imagine these are our two multiverses. Their energetic compositions are fundamentally different, as shown by the different colours. The green one represents this multiverse, and the red one represents yours. They were created and are sustained by vastly different powers." She spread her fingers, and both bubbles enlarged, revealing that each housed a multitude of smaller ones. "Each multiverse contains a horde of universes within them. Forming a bridge between universes in the same multiverse, while not simple, is doable enough because they have the same fundamental make-up." She demonstrated this by creating a chain linking two of the universes.

The Ancient One paused for a moment, allowing Jack a moment to digest the information. She then pinched, and the mini bubbles disappeared as the illusions shrunk back to their original sizes. "To travel between multiverses, however, would entail a much more intricate process," she said.

"Now, none of this happens on a physical level, but I will describe it as though it does to help you understand." She brought her hand down sharply, and an opening appeared in the green multiverse. "I would first have to tear a hole in the fabric of this multiverse, which, while requiring an immense amount of energy, is possible and, if done correctly, won't inflict any permanent damage."

"So, what's the problem?" Jack asked.

The Ancient One lowered her hands. "Our multiverses are not the only ones. There are countless others, as many as there are stars in the sky. We'd not only need to locate your multiverse, and the specific universe you hail from, but also create an opening for you to enter through. And, well, power from this world wouldn't suffice. It wouldn't be compatible, so to speak. We'd need energy from your world, energy with the same composition. It would need to be powerful, too, to be able to create the opening."

Jack let out a noise that somehow managed to be a mix of triumph and despair. "My grace," he said. "We need my grace."

"Your grace?" the Ancient One asked, intrigued.

"Yes. It's, uh, it's energy. Pure power. The essence of Nephilim and angels." Jack's wings drooped as he said, "My grace is gone, though."

The Ancient One arched an eyebrow. "By angels you mean celestial beings?"

Jack nodded.

"Does that mean your universe has a God? One true God?"

Jack nodded again. "He's called Chuck."

The Ancient One sighed and leant back slightly. "I had hoped that your universe would at least have a similar power source to this one. Something akin to the Infinity Stones. But a God…"

Jack shifted worriedly, picking up on the sorceress' concern. "What is it? What's wrong?"

"How much do you know about the role your God plays in the sustaining of your universe?"

Jack frowned. "Well," he began, "if Chuck dies the world will stop. My father told me of when he stopped that from happening. To do it he had to be possessed by…" his frown deepened. "…my father."

The Ancient One's voice was gentle when she spoke. Too gentle. It was like she was consoling him on the information she was about to reveal, and it set Jack on edge. "If what you say is true. If, without God, your world fades… then your presence in this universe, cut off from your God's power, may well cause you to wither away too."

"I— what? No," Jack said emphatically, his wings flaring in panic. "No, I can't… I have to get home." He looked up at the Ancient One, his eyes wide. "Tony said that he would get me back. He can do it. He has to do it"

The Ancient One raised a pacifying hand. "Hope is not lost," she reassured. "The fading won't be an instantaneous process. It's not caused by the fact that you're not in your universe. It's the fact that you're in this one. The ambient power of the Infinity Stones will, to put it simply, diminish the innate energy of your universe which you hold. But it could take years, even decades, for the effects to begin to become apparent."

"But when that energy is gone? Will I just… fade?"

The Ancient One nodded, pity creasing the corners of her eyes.

Jack slumped back in his chair, his face crumpling. He swallowed past the lump that formed in his throat, tried to ignore the tears that burned in the corners of his eyes. He clenched his eyes shut and tilted his head to the roof. Why couldn't he catch a break? What was it that the universe had against him?

"Jack," the Ancient One said. Jack took a shuddering breath before he opened his eyes and found, to his surprise, that she was standing right by him. He looked up at her. When had she moved?

The Ancient One said, "I meant it when I said that there was still hope. You said your grace was lost. What did you mean by that?"

The reminder of his grace brought another tide of misery crashing in, and Jack had to take another deep breath before saying, "It's gone."

"You need to elaborate. I think I can help, but I need to know more."

"It's gone, alright! You can't help me!" Jack cried; his grief swept away by a wave of irrational anger. "I failed! I couldn't open the rift. I couldn't save my family. And I paid the price. My wing is broken, and I'm lost," his wings trembled under the weight of unsaid words and unshed tears. "I'm just… so… lost."

"I may just surprise you," the Ancient One said, remaining calm as she moved towards one of the many bookshelves lining the walls of the room. "This library holds a vast expanse of knowledge, the extent of which not even I truly know. But," she turned back to Jack, piercing him with her intense gaze, "I need to know more."

Jack stared at her with shimmering eyes, only just managing to hold back the tears which still threatened to fall. He was tired, he realised. This day had exhausted him, both physically and emotionally. "I'm sorry," he said quietly, dejectedly. After a beat of silence, he continued. "It happened when I arrived here. I still don't remember it, and I still don't know why I don't remember it. But Tony said that I broke my wing. My grace, it would've escaped when that happened. At first, I thought someone had taken it, and that they held it somewhere. But now I know, my grace wasn't contained. So, it's gone."

"Gone?" the Ancient One repeated. "Matter, energy, they cannot be destroyed. If what you say is true, it's possible that your grace has dispersed, scattered throughout the world. But even then, with the right spell, it could be retrieved."

"Really?" Jack asked, hope once again rising unbidden. "How? How would you find it? How would you gather it?"

"Any energy signature can be traced, especially one as unique as yours. If your grace is on Earth, its recovery will be possible," she said. "I hate to ask this, but the moment you lost your grace, would there have been a flux of power? Or something else our sensors may have picked up on?"

Jack nodded. "Yes," he said. "There would've been a big surge of power."

"Our system was dealing with an influx of alerts at the time of your arrival, given the invasion, but that's good. If I can find that surge of energy, pinpointing your grace's signature will be made that much easier."

"But you can do it?"

"Yes, Jack. I can."

* * *

**A/N: M'kay so this is also on archiveofourown, same title, same username. If you want to see what Jack's wings look like, there's some art of it in the end A/N of chapter 2 over on ao3!**

**Coming next chapter:**  
**More people standing around and talking!**  
**The Avengers realising that "oh, no, Jack's gone"**  
**Jack realising that "oh, no, the Avengers are gonna realise I'm gone"**


End file.
